


What a Privilege it is to Love

by Saffiaan



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anatasha, Christmas Fluff, Fedrey - Freeform, Fluff, Like two chapers of it, Marya is best mom fight me, Multi, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Polyamory, Sonyadrey, Sonyafedrey, Sonyakhov, There are just children cause I love them, There is a wedding chap now, minor OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-08-07 22:43:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16417424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saffiaan/pseuds/Saffiaan
Summary: My collection of Sonyafedrey oneshots (may feature oneshots with just one part of the ship, we'll see) all set in the same modern AU.





	1. Battered Books and Picture Frames

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, Fedya used to date Hélène and they got a kid together. (Lena has full custody over the kid cause she's a power woman.) That kid is Kolya. (Why was he added? Because I love him, that's why. Enjoy my son.)

The door of the bedroom opened, breaking the silence Andrey and Fedya had been in for the last two hours. Sonya walked in and fell backwards on the bed with a loud sigh. Andrey reached over to the bedside table to grab his bookmark. He put on the page he just read and closed the book.

“Is Natasha still exhausting?” he asked with a light grin. Ever since the girl had started dating Anatole, she was… very enthusiastic. It was cute of course, but it could be somewhat tiring every now and then. Both Andrey and Sonya had the honour of witnessing it first-hand. Somehow Fedya seemed entirely unbothered by it. Though that was probably due to the fact that Natasha spared him her enthusiasm, for reasons unknown to both Andrey and Sonya.

“Yes,” Sonya sighed, stretching her arms above her head, effectively taking up half the bed. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s sweet… but she just can’t stop talking about him. I can’t believe I just listened for an hour to her talk about Anatole at the petting zoo.” Andrey chuckled at that. Sure, he wouldn’t want to listen to it for an hour, but it sure sounded rather interesting.

“You know you were just as bad when you started dating us, right?” Fedya remarked, not looking up from the book he was reading. In fact, it was quite apparent that he was somehow still reading. Andrey knew his boyfriend had the amazing ability to listen to a conversation, talk and read at the same time, but it never seized to amaze him.

“I was not!” Sonya protested, rolling over on her stomach so she could send Fedya an accusing glance, which of course didn’t have any effect as the man still had his eyes on his book.

“Yes, you were,” Fedya continued, flipping the page. “So much even that Natasha thought it necessary to call me at 2 am, telling me to break up because ‘if I have to listen to stories about you for another minute, Fyodor Ivanovich, I will kill you myself’.” At this, Sonya turned a bright shade of red, which got even deeper as Fedya continued. “And then when you and Drey got together, she accused me of infecting you with polyamourness -which isn’t even a word, but she used it with all seriousness- and ‘I can’t believe I have to go through this twice!’.” It must have been that Fedya simply knew the book he was reading very well. There was no way he could deliver that small speech and continue reading with full attention. But after a few seconds, yet another page was turned, so maybe he could after all.

Sonya was now really red as she stared at Fedya, who was still completely unbothered by it. Eventually she sighed and dropped face first in the blankets, letting out a muffled: “I hate you.”

“Love you too, Sonyushka,” Fedya replied, perhaps a bit too cheerfully. (Especially considering the fact that he was _still_ reading that book. It was pretty battered. Must have been one of the books Fedya read regularly then.)

“Oh, come on, Fyedka,” Andrey put in, deciding to help Sonya a bit, “you can at least look at your girlfriend when you’re executing the bare minimum of romance.”

Sadly, Fedya rewarded him with a snort for his troubles. “No, because then it wouldn’t be the bare minimum anymore.” He shook his head, turning het another page. “Don’t run over your own logic, Drushka.”

“Is it nickname day or something and did I miss the memo?” Sonya asked. Though her face was still buried in the blankets, so it was only barely audible.

“Nope,” Fedya said, finally closing that book of his. So there was a limit to his ability to read and talk. Good, it had been starting to creep Andrey out. “We’re simply being weird.” He put the book away and leaned over to ruffle Sonya’s hair. The girl lifted her head from the bed and gave her boyfriend an extremely dry look. She got a wink for her troubles as the man in question got up from the bed. Without saying anything, he walked out of the room, which wasn’t entire unusual. It seemed that ‘we’re in the middle of a conversation’ had very little meaning to the man. Well, unless it was a serious conversation of course.

“But otherwise it was fun with Tasha?” Andrey asked, taking Sonya by the shoulders and placing her so she could lay with her head in his lap. He let his fingers run through her hair, fixing the mess Fedya had made of it.

“Hmm. Yes. Luckily we talked about other stuff too. Oh! We wanted to go to the movies sometime soon. Anatole is coming too. Want to go with us?”

“Sure, do you want to invite Fedya as well?”

“I wanted to go just with you,” Sonya said, though it sounded a bit tentative. Out of the three of them, she was still the one who was least comfortable with doing something with one of her boyfriends and not the other.

“Now I feel left out,” Fedya said, who had appeared back in the room, this time carrying a plastic back. “Though on second thought… Two Rostovas, one Kuragin. Actually, I’m fine.” He sat down on the bed again, smirking slightly. “Good luck with that, Drey.” It was a bit of a weird reaction, but clearly effective as Sonya relaxed again in Andrey’s lap.

“Kolya asked me to give these to you,” Fedya said as he took two things out of the bag, giving one to Sonya and Andrey. On closer inspection, they were picture frames. Covered in bright paint, glitters, sequins and feathers.

“Oh! That’s so sweet!” Sonya exclaimed. But then again, she would have found a single feather sweet. Andrey had to admit though, that it was indeed quite sweet. “We’ll have to call him today. Why didn’t he bring them himself?”

“I don’t know, he had a thing,” Fedya said, shrugging. “Sports. Maybe. Honestly, I have no idea. Anatole could be kidnapping him for all I know.” It was a much more likely scenario than it should have been.

“You’re very invested in what your kid does throughout the day,” Andrey remarked dryly, moving to attempt to ruffle Fedya’s hair, but not succeeding due to the man moving out of the way.

“Hey, I’m not his mom,” Fedya argued. Which was true in more than one aspect. To be fair, Hélène did switch up Kolya’s after school activities more often than most people would. So perhaps Fedya couldn’t be blamed for not keeping track. Especially since it was Fedya, the man who had troubles remembering what his own activities were.

“Good thing you’re not,” Sonya muttered as she took Fedya’s hand and pulled him down to lay beside her. “I’m cold, be my blanket.” Andrey was sure that if he had said that, he would have gotten a sarcastic remark of some sorts. Of course, all that Sonya got was a sarcastic look, a light smirk and her boyfriend to lay down beside her and wrap her arms around her. It was sweet though, so Andrey wouldn’t dare complain. Especially not since Fedya allowed Andrey to run his hands through his hair now.

That didn't mean he wouldn't say anything about it. "Fedya, you're extremely biased."

"Good observation skills, Drushka," Fedya replied, because of course that's how he would react. "Deal with it."


	2. Afternoon Conversations and Important Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fedya and Andrey have an important talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a comment on last chapter (Thanks, Mabel!) I thought it would be interesting to give some more insight to how these three came together. So here's the conversation Fedya and Andrey have about Sonya. I'll probably write everyone's first dates after this.
> 
> Also, Fedya has a coffee shop.

“Hey, can we talk?”

At the question, Andrey looked up from where he had been putting the plates back in the cupboard. Very few good conversations started with those words, he knew, so he got incredibly nervous all of a sudden. He didn’t try to let it shine through too much though and closed the cupboard. Then he turned around to look at Fedya, who was leaning against the counter.

“Yes, of course. Is something wrong?” Andrey couldn’t help but ask, as his boyfriend’s expression didn’t let anything on.

“Not really,” Fedya answered with a shrug that hardly helped with Andrey’s nerves. Though he supposed he’d have to believe Fedya if he said there wasn’t anything wrong. “Just something I want to talk to you about.”

“Alright.” Andrey nodded. He dried his hands and then followed Fedya to sit down at the table. It took a few seconds before his boyfriend started to talk. In those seconds, Andrey slowly started to realise Fedya was nervous too. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“I think I’m falling in love with someone else,” Fedya said eventually.

Oh.

Andrey was quiet for a little while, processing what Fedya has just said. Of course, he had told Andrey that he was polyamorous very early on in their relationship. (Or what Andrey would consider early anyway.) Still, Andrey hadn’t quite expected that Fedya would ever fall for someone else. Which was probably a bit naïve. He looked back up at his boyfriend again, who now definitely looked nervous. Which was definitely a first and Andrey decided it was a good thing. “You still love me, right?” He knew it was a stupid question, but he couldn’t help himself from asking it anyway.

“Yes, of course,” Fedya answered without a second’s hesitation. “And I swear, if it makes you uncomfortable or you don’t want me to, I won’t do anything with this. It should be easy enough to avoid them and emotions don’t need to be acted upon anyway.” Fedya was looking at him with a sincerity Andrey had learned was reserved for special moments. It would be easy to tell Fedya to do nothing. Simply because right now, things were good. Amazing, even. And Andrey wasn’t sure if he wanted it to change. But it also seemed extremely selfish if that were his only reason.

Was he uncomfortable with the idea of Fedya getting into another relationship? A bit, but mostly because Andrey had no idea how that would go. But was that really enough reason? He supposed he’d just have to trust Fedya.

“Who is it? Do I know them?” Andrey asked, doubting that he did. It was far from unthinkable that this person was a regular at Fedya’s coffee shop or something like that. And Andrey definitely didn’t know all the regulars. Not nearly. In fact, he could count the ones he knew on one hand and he sincerely doubted that either Vaska, Marya or Berg were Fedya’s type.

“Yeah, it’s Sonya,” Fedya answered. Which was… surprising to say the least. To be honest, Andrey wouldn’t have taken the girl as being Fedya’s type either. But at the same time, he felt a relieve. Sonya, he knew. He could get along with her. They weren’t friends at the moment, but maybe they could be. This wasn’t some unknown person that Andrey didn’t know and that he might end up not getting along with.

“Does she know?”

“Yes,” Fedya said, his voice coated in an extremely dry sarcasm, “I declared my undying love for her and only then did I tell you and include that I wouldn’t do anything with her if you don’t want me to.”

“That could turn out to be rather awkward.”

“For more reasons than one.”

They both chuckled, but the fact remained that Andrey hadn’t given an answer yet. Simply asked a lot of questions. And it was clear that Fedya did want an answer, which was understandable.

Andrey took a deep breath before nodding. “Ask her out if you want to.” Fedya looked far more surprised than Andrey had expected him to. Though the surprise was also accompanied by a small but grateful smile, which convinced Andrey he had made the right decision.

“What, really?”

“Yeah, Sonya’s an amazing girl. And I trust you.” Andrey shrugged with a nonchalance that wasn’t entirely sincere, but definitely not completely forced. “I’m just wondering how you want to do that with you living here and everything. On the long term.”

“How about we’ll figure that out when we get there?” Fedya suggested, which was definitely a good suggestion. “Besides, just because you said yes, doesn’t mean she will.” He grinned, all nerves apparently having disappeared. “I may be the only person on this earth who risks getting dumped unnecessarily.”

“Not without reason though,” Andrey argued, though he did appreciate the term ‘unnecessarily’. It was a bit more confirmation that this had nothing to do with him coming short. He suddenly realised that was probably something he should have worried about before. Well, he was glad he didn’t and didn’t see a reason to start doing it either.

“That’s true,” Fedya agreed, seemingly with his thoughts somewhere else.

“You have no idea for a date, do you?”

“I’m royally fucking myself over, yes.”


	3. Cancelled Dates and Spilled Jam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrey is an amazing boyfriend and Fedya is a forgetful idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'll do the first dates after this, but the idea popped into my head and I just couldn't resist. (And yes, again just Fedrey, I'm sorry. I have some things laying around that also feature Sonya. And while I don't post things chronologically on here, some things just fit better if I post them after other things. But y'know, if I write the dates there will be two chapters with a lot of Sonya. Because I do love this woman.)

The ringing of Andrey’s cell phone had been sounding through his apartment for a good couple of seconds, he was very aware. However, trying to rush out of the shower while also not dripping all over the floor wasn’t as successful as he had hoped. It was a miracle he hadn’t slipped. It was even more a miracle that he actually got to the phone in time to pick it up with a rushed “Andrey”.

“Hey, it’s Fedya,” answered his boyfriend’s voice, which was far more familiar than the term. There was a slight pause before he asked in a tone that was more amused than concerned: “Are you alright? You sound like you just ran a marathon.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Andrey chuckled, “just…” _turned the apartment in a water slide_ “was doing something when you called.” He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to lean with his back against the kitchen table. “Why did you call?”

“I’m really sorry, but I have to cancel for tonight,” Fedya said, sounding genuinely apologetic. Andrey felt a rush of disappointment, followed by a flash of concern and a flicker of worry.

“Oh… Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, just unexpectedly got to babysit my kid.”

“Your what?” Andrey stared in surprise at the wall in front of him as if it might give some clarification. He was pretty sure he heard right, but it didn’t sound quite right. It was quiet for at least a full minute. During that minute, Andrey could almost hear Fedya mentally slapping himself in the face.

“I can’t believe I forgot to tell you,” Fedya muttered eventually, letting out a small sigh. “I got a son. To be honest, that really just means I’m his biological father. His mom has full custody. I just babysit every now and then.”

“Oh…,” Andrey said again, not quite sure how he was supposed to react to it. Or even how he was supposed to feel about it. So he simply asked the first question that popped into his head. “Who’s his mom?”

“Hélène Kuragina,” Fedya answered. “I believe I mentioned her. We dated like 6 years ago or something like that. She got pregnant, wanted to keep him, I did not. We broke up and she got full custody. All on good terms. We work better as friends anyway.” Andrey now remembered Fedya vaguely having mentioned her at some point, though never with this much detail. And how the man had forgotten to also mention his kid in that same conversation was beyond Andrey. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I know it’s kind of a big deal. I hope it’s not a problem?”

“No… It’s fine. I’m just surprised is all,” Andrey answered slowly, running his fingers through his hair. More because he needed something to do with his hand than because his hair was a problem. (Though to be honest, the fact that it was still dripping water on his shoulders and back wasn’t ideal.)

“Yeah… Sorry about dropping it on you like this and sorry about tonight. But unless you’re in for mac and cheese with either _Cars_ , _The Princess and the Frog_ or a third movie that will undoubtedly make it on the list of possible candidates, there isn’t really anything I can do but reschedule.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad to be honest,” Andrey half-joked. It really didn’t sound all that bad. Then again, he didn’t really care much what he’d eat or watch as long as he got to spend time with Fedya.

It was once again silent for a couple of seconds, after which Fedya suggested: “You know, if you want to, you’re free to come over and join us.”

“Are you sure?” Andrey asked hesitantly. Not that he didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want to intrude on something he had no right intruding on. “Won’t your kid mind? What’s he even called?” A warm chuckle sounded through the phone. It made the hesitation disappear and forced a small smile on Andrey’s face.

“Kolodka,” Fedya answered. “And don’t worry, he won’t mind. He likes people. Somehow. I genuinely don’t know where he got that from but I know it wasn’t me.” Now it was Andrey’s turn to chuckle. “I have to go and pick him up now. I’ll see you appear in an hour or so?”

“Yeah,” Andrey confirmed, after which they hung up. He stared at his phone for a good couple of minutes, a giddy feeling in his stomach that probably wasn’t entirely appropriate. Well, maybe it was. After all, Kolodka was Fedya’s son and Andrey had just been invited to spend time with him. That had to mean something. He quickly put his phone back on the table to continue his shower and get ready.

About 45 minutes later, Andrey found himself in front of the door of Fedya’s apartment. He took the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door to get in. Fedya had given him the keys quite early on. Or well, what Andrey considered early, but it had also quickly become apparent that Fedya very much had his own pace, which Andrey was absolutely fine with. It wasn’t like the implication was any less important.

“Hey,” he called while he took off his coat and threw it on the small heap of coats that was supposed to replace a coatrack. To be fair, Fedya lived on his own and only owned one coat, so maybe a coatrack was a bit unnecessary. The only reason it could be called a heap now was the small camo jack that lay on top of Fedya’s.

“Hey,” called Fedya’s voice in response, followed by some muttering of which Andrey couldn’t make out the words. The muttering was followed by a laugh which was clearly a child’s. Once he had entered the living room, which doubled as kitchen, Andrey was actually able to see the kid. He was perched on Fedya’s hip, giggling about something. His dark brown curls seemed to be bouncing with every movement he made. His eyes, definitely Fedya’s eyes, met Andrey’s and suddenly the moving and giggling stopped.

“Papa, there is a man,” the boy said to Fedya, who was standing with his back to Andrey and seemed to be cleaning something up.

“I know,” Fedya answered, not sounding incredibly amused. “And your hands are a sticky mess so you can’t say hi unless you go and get them cleaned right now.” The boy gasped and wiggled until Fedya set him down on the ground, after which he darted out of the room.

“Someone explain to me what about a jar filled with jam screams ‘please open me and get me all over the fucking counter’,” Fedya muttered, tossing the rag he had in his hand on the counter. After that he turned around and walked over to Andrey to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Hey.”

Andrey made use of the opportunity to wind an arm around Fedya’s waist. “Kids are curious.” Fedya snorted and rolled his eyes, but he also draped his arms over Andrey’s shoulders, so Andrey decided to let it slide. “What was that jar doing within arm reach anyway? You’re supposed to keep jam in the fridge.”

“Not if it isn’t opened yet. Literally just got it at the supermarket,” Fedya argued. “Guess he won’t have breakfast with jam after all.” Andrey chuckled and would have replied if it hadn’t been for Kolodka walking back into the room.

“Hands clean,” he said and he held out a hand to Andrey, seemingly oblivious of the fact that Andrey was currently embracing his father. That or he didn’t care. Either way, it was clear he wanted to properly introduce himself, so Andrey let go of Fedya and took the boy’s hand to shake it. “I’m Kolya.”

“I’m Andrey, I’m your dad’s…,” Andrey began, but he hesitated for a second. Then he decided to just go with it, since Fedya hadn’t told him to do otherwise and they had already kissed with Kolya very much in the same building, “boyfriend.”

“Took you long enough,” Fedya commented, earning him a jab in the ribs delivered by Andrey’s elbow. That and Kolya’s attention. It seemed he didn't have a very long attention span, though Andrey supposed that was normal for children.

“Can we eat now?” the boy asked.

“I haven’t made dinner yet because I was too busy getting jam off the counter,” Fedya pointed out, shooting Kolya a rather accusatory look. The boy looked down and muttered a quiet apology. Andrey didn't miss the fondness in the small smile that curled up Fedya's lips as he looked down at his son. “How about you go and pick a movie and I’ll get dinner ready in the meantime?” Kolya’s eyes and smile grew as he looked up and Fedya. He nodded and ran the small distance to the couch, falling onto it but somehow still managing to get the remote and turn on the tv within seconds.

“He’s cute,” Andrey said, sitting down on one of the barstools that were placed at the small cooking island that separated the kitchen from the living room and functioned as table.

“I know,” Fedya answered with a light grin. He took a pan out of a cupboard, one of the two Andrey had learned he owned, and filled it with pasta and water. He set the pan on the stove and lazily stirred it every so often as they waited for it to boil.

“How old is he?” Andrey asked, having very little experience with young children. Definitely not enough to guess a child’s age.

“He turned five past summer,” Fedya replied. “He’s finally at an age where he can talk halfway decently. Not that he wasn’t cute as a baby, but babies are horrible at communicating what they want.”

“So weird.”

Fedya lightly slapped his arm and gave him a look that would have been unamused if it hadn’t been for the light smirk on his lips. “Just because it makes sense doesn’t mean it’s not annoying, you ass.” He walked over to the fridge and got out two bags of grated cheese and a package of ham. “And trust me, babies are annoying. A lot more than that they’re cute to be honest.”

“Is that why you didn’t want one?” Andrey asked, lowering his voice so that Kolya wouldn’t be able to hear. He guessed the boy already knew, or at least knew something, but he didn’t want to risk him not knowing.

“Yes, and I just generally didn’t want a kid to be honest.” The pasta was done boiling so Fedya let the water out of the pan and started adding the cheese and ham. “I mean, I was eighteen. Getting a kid with a woman I didn’t love wasn’t exactly on my to do-list.” Andrey hummed. He supposed it made sense. It was understandable in any case. He wouldn’t know what he’d have done had he been in Fedya’s place. “Not that I’m not glad to have him now. But well, I still don’t have him full time. Or even part time. Which is fine, but it’s not the same as having to raise a kid and having full responsibility.”

“That explains the irresponsible dinner in front of the tv,” Andrey remarked, nodding at the macaroni which Fedya was now dividing over three plates.

“That and the fact that I didn’t have anything laying around and I was too lazy to think of something that requires more work,” Fedya confirmed, giving one of the plates to Andrey. He himself took the other two and the cutlery and they walked over to the couch.

“We’re watching Aliens!” Kolya announced as he took his plate and spoon from Fedya. Andrey didn’t know the movie, but he didn’t really care anyway.

“It’s what he calls _Toy Story_ ,” Fedya whispered as he passed by to get two glasses, a plastic mug and a bottle of water.

Within half an hour all plates were empty and stacked on the coffee table. Fedya was leaning with his back against Andrey’s side with Andrey’s arm hanging loosely over his shoulder. Kolya had claimed Fedya’s lap and was laying with his chest against his dad’s. Even though it was clear he was getting tired, he was completely taken in by the movie and Andrey had no doubt he’d stay awake until the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrey definitely stayed the night and got jam for Kolya the next morning so he can slowly work his way up to becoming the cool dad.


	4. Car Rides and Autumn Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fedya and Andrey's first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! We've started with the first dates. I've decided to do these in chronological order, so first Fedrey. I'll upload the Sonyakhov one sometime during the weekend and then the Sonyadrey one sometime the week after. And then I've got two Christmas specials for, y'know, Christmas! (Cause where I live we have two Christmas days so one for the first and one for the second.) Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Now onto some background information that I couldn't fit comfortably into this chapter: Andrey is pretty much in the closet at this point. He met Fed in Fed's coffee shop (where, of course, you can get tequila mixed in with your coffee. Or literally anything else containing alcohol). Cause he was Sad, as Andrey sometimes tends to be, and eventually stayed the night cause he didn't want to go home and it's not like Fedya has anything better to do anyway.

Fedya parked his car in front of the apartment building he had gotten the address of. He rolled down his window further than it had already been so the smoke of his cigarette could truly escape the car. He had no idea what Andrey’s stance was on smoking, he doubted it was very positive, but people generally didn’t like to sit in the smoke. So Fedya also put out the cigarette in the makeshift ashtray he had in his car. After that he send a text to Andrey telling him that he was waiting. And then it was just waiting

The cool autumn breeze entered the car through the open windows, chasing away the smoke. It wasn’t cold yet, certainly not for Fedya, who would go out wearing nothing but a sweater in the middle of winter. It was just chilly enough to be pleasant. The kind of chilly that would cool down Fedya within seconds and slow down his thoughts had they been racing. Strangely enough, they weren’t now. Though perhaps that was because he wasn’t nervous. After all, he didn’t have high hopes for this date. He didn’t really think there was a reason for that. Having had two serious relations, several less serious and still being single, it maybe wasn’t strange after all that Fedya was this calm.

After a couple of minutes, Fedya saw Andrey walking out of the building. So to spare the other searching every car on the parking lot, Fedya got out of his car, easily catching Andrey’s attention that way.

“Hey,” Andrey said once he was in earshot. It wasn’t incredibly obvious, but Fedya could still tell he was nervous and Fedya couldn’t help the slightly amused grin that appeared on his face at that. Well, maybe he could if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to.

“Get in,” Fedya told Andrey as he got into the car himself. To the man’s credit, he only looked mildly confused at the request and got in without asking anything. Though it appeared he has merely saved his questions, because Fedya hadn’t left the parking lot yet or Andrey asked: “Where are we going?” Which, admittedly, was a fair question. That didn’t mean Fedya was going to give an answer. He only smirked and said: “You’ll see.” This answer, understandably, didn’t seem to fully satisfy Andrey, so Fedya added: “Think of it as a trust exercise.” Which earned him a rather dry look, causing a low chuckle to leave his mouth

“Trust me,” Fedya continued, ignoring the even dryer look he got at that, “if I had wanted to kill you, I would have done so while you were sleeping in my shop.” An unconvinced humm sounded from his right, followed by: “Well, you seemed to have thought about it a lot for someone who isn’t planning on it.” This caused Fedya to chuckle.

“What can I say?” he asked as he entered the highway. “I’m morbid like that.” Which was true for the most part, though ‘morbid’ wasn’t necessarily the best term for it. He let go of the steering wheel with one hand to reach down between the seats, at first diving right into the ashtray, which was a good excuse for a few muttered curses. Then he found what he was looking for, the aux cord, and held it out to Andrey. “A sign of good intentions?”

“Or you’re just letting me choose what I’d like to hear before I die,” Andrey huffed, though there was definitely an amused smile on his face.

“Hey, that’s not something I grand anyone, you should feel special.” Fedya smirked, shooting a wink at Andrey. A few seconds later the sound of a guitar came through the car speakers. It wasn’t a song Fedya knew, though that could be said for most songs, but it sounded good, so he was completely fine with it.

About half an hour later Fedya pulled up in the parking lot of a nature park. Andrey shot him a surprised and confused look once it became clear this was their final destination. 

“You like trees, don’t you?” Fedya asked, unbuckling himself and getting out of the car. Andrey, despite his surprise, followed the example and looked at him over the roof of the vehicle. 

“Yes,” he said, “but do you?"

Fedya gave a small shrug in reply. “Sure. They provide me with oxygen. I like oxygen.” He locked the car and started walking into the forest, followed by Andrey, who said: “So does grass.” Which was news to Fedya, though mostly due to the fact that he had never really thought about it.

“I never said I don’t like grass, did I?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. Andrey inclined his head, as if to admit that was true. “Though I’ll say that grass is a lot less interesting than trees.” Fedya looked up at the trees. Admittedly, he didn’t find them extremely interesting either. Especially not now that most of them had lost their leaves. But he supposed the wide arrange of colours now on the ground was a lot more interesting than grass.

“It’s quiet here,” Andrey remarked after a few minutes of peaceful silence. Fedya hummed in agreement. 

“Barely anyone ever comes here,” he said, giving a small shrug. “Part of the reason why we had to drive half an hour. Figured you wouldn’t appreciate a crowd.” This, for whatever reason, caused Andrey to stop walking. So Fedya did too, turning around to look at the other man with an eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“I wouldn’t,” Andrey said after a few seconds of silence in which he may have figured out the creation of life. It would probably look the same. He looked up at Fedya again. “Thanks.” Now, that was rather surprising to Fedya. Not necessarily the words, but more the way in which they were said. As if this was anything more than just normal consideration. Of course, Fedya was well aware that a lot of people didn’t take other people into consideration, but that usually wasn’t the case when they were actually attempting to build some kind of relation with that person. So he just gave a small shrug. “No problem.”

Andrey continued to walk again so Fedya took that as his clue to do the same. He led them through the forest -he did have an end goal in mind- as they talked about… well, a lot, but nothing of great importance. Though of course that would matter of one’s perception of importance. Fedya wouldn’t exactly call it unimportant either. 

They were just in the middle of a discussion why dogs were better pets than wolves, when Fedya felt Andrey’s hand press against his. As if Andrey wanted to hold hands but was unsure about practically every aspect of it. So while not breaking off his argument defending the wolves, Fedya took Andrey’s hand in his own, entwining their fingers. It had been quite some time since he had hold hands with anyone over the age of four. Let alone anyone he actually liked. And he had to admit, he did really like Andrey. Surprisingly much, actually.

Eventually they reached their destination. They stood at the edge of a cliff. It wasn’t extremely high, but it was high enough to look over the trees of the forest beneath them to the slowly setting sun. Fedya could hear Andrey’s sharp intake of breath at the sight and couldn’t help a small smile. Admittedly, this wasn’t how he had expected things to go. Simply because things like this usually ended either in a mess or in bed. Given who he had asked out, Fedya had definitely expected the first. But he preferred this over either of the two outcomes. Unexpected, but absolutely not unwanted. He gave Andrey’s hand a small squeeze, not looking at him but at the darkening of the sky in front of them. After a second, he felt Andrey squeeze in response.


	5. Old Libraries and Theatre Performances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonya and Fedya's first date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to post this today as I will be gone for the bigger part of tomorrow and would only be able to post it very late. So because of that it's not proofread yet. Please forgive any typos or weird sentence you may encounter (though of course I hope there won't be any)

Sonya walked to her mirror for at least the tenth time in the past 30 minutes. Like she had done the other times, she hardly changed anything about her appearance before walking away again. Finally her phone, which was laying on the bedside table, buzzed loudly. She picked it up, looking at the text that had caused the buzzing.

_F: I’m outside._

_S: I’ll be right there!_

She put the phone in her back and started making her way outside, quickly casting another glance in the mirror as she did so. Honestly, she had no idea why her nervousness had decided to out itself like this. Usually she put in minimal effort in her looks and even now she hadn’t done anything fancy. Just a little mascara. Definitely not something that needed checking as much as she had checked it. Well, at least she knew it was still in place.

As soon as Sonya stepped outside, the cold wind hit her in the face. It was nearing the end of winter, but it appeared the weather didn’t know that yet. The wind was still cold and the world was still frosted over in the morning. It wasn’t incredibly early anymore, around 11, but the leaves that were gathered near the side walk and the grass were still covered in ice.

Fedya’s car wasn’t hard to find, as it was parked practically right in front of the entrance to the apartment building. Sonya saw him lean over and the door at the side of the passenger seat opened. She quickly got inside and closed the door behind her. Inside it was considerably warmer than outside.

“Couldn’t find an empty parking spot,” Fedya explained his choice for parking, though Sonya hadn’t asked anything.

“Yeah, the parking lot is pretty crammed most of the time,” Sonya said. “There is a family of five upstairs who all have their own cars.” She couldn’t help a small chuckle at Fedya’s weird look. “I know, don’t ask me while they’re still living here if they can afford that.”

“It’s also just incredibly unnecessary,” Fedya remarked as he started driving away from the apartment building to… somewhere. Sonya hadn’t really asked anything and Fedya never told her. But she kind of liked not knowing, so she decided to not ask. “How often is everyone going to need a car?”

“Well, every day I’d think. When the younger ones have to go to school and the older ones to work,” Sonya argued.

“They can just carpool.”

“Maybe they can’t stand each other.”

“Then they should just throw out those cars and get a larger place to live so they never have to walk into each other.”

“I don’t know either, alright?” Sonya chuckled. “Go and ask them if you really want to know.”

“I think I’m fine,” Fedya chuckled, which slightly untightened the nervous tangle that was Sonya’s digestive system. They were slowly driving towards the centre of the city, which was slightly unexpected. Simply because it wasn’t evening yet and as far as Sonya knew, there wasn’t a whole lot to do in the city that Fedya liked doing. Though she supposed she’d get proven wrong soon enough.

“What’s your favourite colour?” Sonya blurted out before she could think about it. Maybe if she had thought about it, she wouldn’t have asked it, but now that she had, she couldn’t exactly take it back. So she tried not to burst in nervous giggles. Which was made considerably harder by the look which Fedya gave her. The look may have been short, but it said more than enough.

“Seriously?” Fedya asked, turning his eyes back on the road again. For which Sonya was thankful for more than one reason.

“Apparently.”

“Let me get back on that then.”

Sonya physically turned in her seat to look at the man next to her. “You don’t have a favourite colour?”

“Not yet, do you?” Fedya asked as they turned a corner, which he must have taken deliberately sharp. It caused Sonya to fall against the door in any case.

“Yes, it’s purple,” she answered. They finally drove onto a parking lot. The building they stopped in front of a building which seemed pretty old, though most buildings in the city were. The front read _Royal Theatre_. Sonya turned in her seat again to shoot Fedya a questioning look. Sadly, all she got in response was a light smirk so she got out of the car to inspect the building up close. Now she saw that there was a golden plaque next to the big wooden doors that read: _Umeniye: theatre, café and library._

“Natasha said you love the ballet,” sounded Fedya’s voice behind her. She turned around to look at him and couldn’t supress the small smile that appeared on her face.

“I do,” she confirmed, “thank you.” The soft smile that came onto his face made her stomach flutter and her smile grow. He held open the door for her and she stepped inside.

After they had passed through the foyer, where Fedya paid for their entrance, they entered themain room. Far in front of them was a stage, currently with curtains drawn. In front of the stage there weren’t rows of seats like one would expect, but small tables with comfortable looking chairs. What probably used to be the boxes were now filled with bookshelves. All of this was illuminated by the soft warm light that came from the dozen or so chandeliers that were dispersed over the room.

Sonya suddenly realised she probably had been looking around herself for a little long. “It’s gorgeous.” She turned back to look at Fedya, who was looking at her with a look she couldn’t quite place. Almost as if she were the best thing in the room. She could feel a blush creep up her cheeks and quickly turned around again.

“The performance doesn’t start for another hour or so,” Fedya said, luckily making no remark about her blushing which he must have seen. “So we can look around if you want. Unless you want to keep standing here.” She turned back to him again and was met with a light smirk. So she rolled her eyes and without thinking grabbed his hand to drag him to the stairs that led up to the boxes.

The hour passed surprisingly quickly. They went through the many books around the shelves. They talked about their favourite authors, genres and books. Sonya found a copy of Fedya’s favourite book, _A Hero of Our Time,_ and decided to buy it. Then they went to find a copy of her favourite book, _Mansfield Park,_ of which there were eight different copies. It took Sonya at least five minutes to choose which one Fedya should buy and then another five to decide which one she should add to her own collection.

After that hour they made their way downstairs again. Fedya got them tea and coffee as Sonya watched the curtain rise. It was a very simple ballet, but it had the more charm because of it. And Sonya definitely loved every minute. Admittedly, Fedya didn’t look as if he understood the story, but somehow he didn’t seem bored either. And well, it had been his idea, so he couldn’t complain if he were bored anyway.

As the performance was coming to an end, Sonya slowly realised that so was their date. Of course, they could stay here for longer, but they couldn’t stay forever either. And to her surprise she found that she didn’t want it to be over yet. So, once the applause had died down, she turned to Fedya and suggested: “Shall we get dinner after this? I’ll pay.”

Now it was Fedya’s turn to look a little surprised, but then he said: “Well, I won’t say no to free dinner.” Sonya chuckled and rewarded him for that remark by slapping his arm. “Shall we go and explore the other two thirds of this building in the meantime?” The suggestion had hardly left his mouth or Sonya had grabbed his hand again, though this time a little more calmly, to lead him back to the boxes.

"Oh, and Sonya, my favourite colour is blue."


	6. Unexpected Invites and Christmas Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrey and Fedya spend Christmas at with Fed's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I didn't gt the Sonyadrey date done in time, but it will definitely come after Christmas. So to compensate, I decided to post the first Christmas fic a day early. I hope you enjoy! Tomorrow or the day after will be Sonya's first Christmas with Fedya's family.

“Are you doing anything for Christmas?”

“Wat?” Andrey frowned and pulled his face away from where it had been buried in Fedya’s neck for at least half an hour. It was a chilly morning and Fedya’s apartment wasn’t exactly warm, so they had stayed in Fedya’s bed after waking up. The bed wasn’t really built for two people, but they made it fit by entangling enough. He lifted his head to look over Fedya’s shoulder, just in time to see him but his phone on the nightstand. The man turned around in Andrey’s arms and repeated: “I asked if you were doing anything for Christmas.” 

“Don’t know,” Andrey answered, rubbing the last sleep out of his eyes before draping his arm loosely over Fedya again. “I’ll probably have lunch with Mary, but that’s most likely to happen after Christmas. She somehow manages to fill both days very easily.” Fedya chuckled and Andrey felt his cold fingers trace non-existent figures on the place where his shirt had ridden up. “Why?”

“My mum just invited you to come over.”

“For Christmas?” Andrey asked, realising only a second to late that yes, of course, otherwise Fedya wouldn’t have asked if he had anything planned for Christmas. The look that Fedya gave him very much helped with that realisation. “Are you sure?”

“Is there a specific reason you keep asking?” Fedya asked, his slightly amused tone and the tilt of his lips indicating that he was very aware of the reason but simply didn’t think it a good one. “You know I’m not obliged to ask you to join in on shit?” Andrey felt his face heat up in no time and looked away, unsuccessfully attempting to formulate a response. Until he felt a cold hand against the cheek that was resting against the pillow. He looked up and met Fedya’s eyes, which weren’t amused anymore but instead were calm and gentle, both of which were fairly new for Andrey to see in his boyfriend. “I’m serious. If I don’t want you somewhere, I won’t invite you there and my mum can ask me a hundred times to invite you. But I do want you there which is why I’m asking.”

Andrey nodded and looked away again, this time at where Fedya’s collarbone disappeared under his shirt. “But we’ve only been dating for two months.” He didn’t want to make it sound like he didn’t want to come. In fact, he found himself very much wanting to go. It just seemed so early.

“Yes, but if you want to wait another two months, I’m afraid you’ll have missed Christmas,” Fedya pointed out, causing Andrey to chuckle involuntarily and look up at his boyfriend again. “And you didn’t have to add the ‘only’ there.” Andrey chuckled again. Fedya did have a point, they had come pretty far in those two months. Much farther than Andrey had expected to come. So who cared that it had ‘only’ been two months?

“Alright, I’ll come,” Andrey decided, a giddy feeling settling in his stomach that had become a frequent occurrence these past two months. However, a bit of dread settled with it as he suddenly realised he was going to meet Fedya’s family. The women who were probably the most important people in Fedya’s life… And Andrey really wanted them to like him.

●◦○◦●◦○◦●

The half an hour it had taken to drive to Marya Ivanovna’s house had not helped at all with Andrey’s nerves. It was a good thing that Fedya was driving or else Andrey might have turned the car around and driven straight home. As it was, they arrived at the house as scheduled. They got out of the car, the snow crunching beneath their feet. Fedya opened the trunk to get their things out of the car and almost at the exact same time, the front door of the house opened. A blonde girl ran out of the building, loudly screaming: “Fedo!”

Andrey watched as Fedya let go of the car in favour of hugging the girl and lifting her up. He had already seen a few pictures of her so it wasn’t hard to guess that this had to be Galina, Fedya’s 12 year old sister. After a few seconds she was put back on the ground and she turned her attention to Andrey. She looked at him curiously for a few seconds before saying: “You must be Andrey. I’m Galina.” Andrey moved to shake her hand, but instead was suddenly pulled into the girl’s hug. Somewhat awkwardly, he returned the hug.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said as he let go of the girl who was enthusiastically nodding in agreement and told him: “I got you a present.” Suddenly Andrey was very glad that he had brought presents for Fedya’s family, something he hadn’t been sure was the good thing to do.

“Let’s get inside before you freeze your limbs off,” Fedya suggested, closing the trunk as he did so. Apparently he had gotten the luggage out of the car already. “Mom will kill me if she thinks you got a cold because of me.”

“It’s not like you can control the weather,” Galina argued as she took one of the bags and led the two men inside the house.

“Please tell her that,” Fedya muttered, causing Andrey to chuckle. They put the bags down at the foot of the stairs, their coats on the coatrack and then followed Galina to the kitchen. In the kitchen was a woman with the same blonde hair as Galina. It was tied in a bun at the back of her head, but multiple hairs were already escaping. An apron was tied around her waist and she was stirring something in a pan that was on the stove.

At the sound of footsteps in the room, she looked up and a smile appeared on her face. “Galya, please stir this for me.” She handed the girl the spoon and then wiped her hands on the apron after which she pulled Andrey in a hug. It was clear that Fedya’s dislike for people did not come from his mother. “I’m glad you’re here, dear. I’ve been dying to finally meet you.” Once again, Andrey awkwardly returned the hug and pretended to not hear the small snicker from behind him. Marya Ivanovna let go of him and continued: “Now, just call me Marya alright? None of that formal second name nonsense here.” Andrey simply nodded and offered her a small smile, which was returned with a bigger one before the woman walked back to the pan.

Two arms wound around Andrey’s waist from the back and he soon felt Fedya’s chin rest on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Andrey looked at his boyfriend as much as he was capable of and nodded. Fedya smiled a little and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Good.” The slight tension Andrey hadn’t even realised was in his shoulders disappeared. He placed his hands over Fedya’s and gave them a light squeeze, which was almost immediately returned with a squeeze from Fedya.

“Hey, mum, if you need any help, Drey actually knows how to make food without risk of food poisoning,” Fedya suggested, hardly lifting his head to talk so that Andrey could feel every word.

“Oh, no,” Marya answered. She had now moved on from the pan, which was still on the stove, and was cutting vegetables on a cutting board. “There’s no need for that. Besides, you’re a guest here.” Without looking, she pushed Galina’s hand away, which had been inching closer to the already chopped tomatoes.

The suggestion definitely hadn’t been Andrey’s idea, but it was clear that Marya could use some help. And well, Andrey did enjoy making food. He was just a bit worried about spending that much time alone with Fedya’s mother. On the other hand, she seemed nice enough so he said: “It’s no problem. I like to cook. Besides, it would give me an opportunity to repay the kindness of your invitation.”

“Well, alright then,” Marya gave in. She opened a drawer and took something which she held out to Andrey. He untangled himself from Fedya and took the object, which he now realised was an apron. The woman looked at her two children, one of which looked like she had gotten hold of some food after all, and said: “But you two are doing the dishes and will set the table.”

“Sure,” Fedya replied. Galina only gave a pout, followed by a sigh and a grunt that could be considered agreeing. Whether she simply didn’t feel like opening her mouth of she had something in her mouth and she didn’t want her mother to know, was unclear. Andrey seriously suspected the latter though. “Come, let’s get the bags upstairs.” With that, the two siblings were out of the room.

Andrey had expected the cooking to be at least a bit awkward, but he was soon proven wrong. Marya really was a nice person. She’d tell him stories about when Fedya and Galya were young. She’d ask him questions, though somehow managed to steer clear of things he’d rather not talk about. Whether that was because Fedya had given her a heads up or because she instinctively knew, Andrey didn’t know, but he was grateful either way. The hour it took to prepare dinner flew past. The things that needed to go in the oven, went in the oven and the entire family gathered on the couch to watch _How the Grinch stole Christmas._

Dinner, too, was a pleasant affair. It was filled with good stories, plenty of laughter and a fair share of good-natured bickering between Fedya and Galya. Andrey clearly had been nervous for nothing. The Dolokhovas welcomed him in as if he were practically family. It was a bit weird, but definitely nice. Just not something he’d have ever expected. But looking into the flames of the candles on the table, with the taste of good food in his mouth the sound of laughter around him and Fedya's hand on his leg, he was eternally grateful. And more than a little glad he had agreed to come.

●◦○◦●◦○◦●

The next morning, Andrey awoke in a heap of blankets and limbs. Fedya’s bed here was even smaller than the one at his apartment so it had been a bit of a challenge to fit in together, but they had managed. And Andrey had had a good night’s rest, so it was probably fine. However, he was sure he’d wake Fedya if he tried to untangle himself, so he didn’t and instead waited for his boyfriend to wake up. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. About fifteen minutes later, Fedya started to move more, which Andrey knew meant he’d wake up pretty soon. Which happened about five minutes after that.

“Hey,” Andrey whispered, stroking aside the hairs on Fedya’s forehead, which earned him a lazy smile. Fedya didn’t verbally respond, but nestled closer to Andrey and shortly nuzzled his shoulder. “Don’t you dare fall asleep again.” A muffled snort sounded from his shoulder and a muttered: “I won’t.”

Admittedly, Fedya didn’t fall back asleep, but it took him a good couple of minutes before he sat up. Andrey finally sat up himself. He stretched, cracked his spine and then swung his legs over the edge of the bed to get out. He was going to get changed, but was stopped by Fedya saying: “Don’t bother.” The man walked to the set of drawers in the room, opened the top one and got out two sweatshirts. One was a dark blue and the other a dark grey. Andrey got tossed the blue one and unfolded it to reveal a Christmas sweater with a brightly coloured penguin on it. “My mum got it for you, it should fit.” Andrey looked up in surprise at Fedya, who had put on the grey sweatshirt, which was really just an ordinary sweatshirt. “I gave her your size.” As if it was the size that surprised Andrey. Nevertheless, he put on the sweater, which indeed did fit, and then followed Fedya downstairs.

“Finally,” Galina loudly exclaimed as soon as they set foot in the living room. She was wearing a Christmas sweater too. A bright red one with a snowman on it.

“For fuck’s sake, Galya, it’s too early,” Fedya muttered, though apparently still loud enough for his mother to hear, as the woman entered the room at that exact moment with a stern look and an even sterner “Language!”. Andrey couldn’t help but snicker, which earned him a half-hearted glare from his boyfriend, who disappeared into the kitchen, undoubtedly to get himself a cup of coffee.

“We can finally open the presents!” Galina continued as if no one had said anything. She got up from the couch and sat down near the Christmas tree. Andrey saw to his surprise that his own presents were under it as well and figured Fedya must have put them there. The girl looked up at him and patted the space beside her, so he gave her a smile and sat down next to her.

A few seconds later, Fedya sat down next to Andrey, a cup of coffee between his hands. Marya joined the small group too. As soon as she sat, Galina asked: “Can I go first?”

“Go ahead,” Fedya muttered into his coffee before throwing it all back at once. He set down the mug behind him and moved closer to Andrey so he could lean against him.

“If you want to,” Marya said, “but I’m afraid you only have one present this year. Fedya and I bought this one together.” Her warning was a fair one, but of course useless to a young girl wanting to open a present. She found her present remarkably quickly and pulled the box with pink paper wrapping and her name on it, towards herself. Some torn paper later revealed a photo camera. A good one too, by the looks of it, though Andrey absolutely wasn’t an expert.

“I’ll personally slaughter you if you break it within a few months,” Fedya remarked, causing Andrey to chuckle and Galina to stick out her tongue at her brother. Her attention was quickly back on the camera though and she examined every detail on the box before finally setting it down. She looked up at her brother and mother and said: “Thank you!” Then she took a smaller, silver wrapped present and held it out to Andrey. He couldn’t help the surprise at the sight of the package, even if she had already told him she had gotten him something.

Carefully, he unwrapped the present to reveal a small bonsai tree in a white pot. He looked at it in surprise for a few seconds before looking up at Galina and giving her the most genuine smile he cold conjure up, which wasn’t all that hard to do. “Thank you.”

“Fedya said you liked trees,” Galina added, as if she had been half afraid that Fedya had been lying. To be fair, considering who they were talking about, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

“First my size and now trees?” Andrey asked, looking at Fedya with a light smirk. “What else did you tell your family about me?”

“Everything, Drush,” Fedya answered, with a smirk of his own. “There is nothing they don’t know now, deal with it.” Everyone in the small semi-circle chuckled. Galina even went as far as to add an evil manic laugh to the mix. After a few seconds, Andrey reached forward to grab his present and handed it to Fedya, who was about as careful with the wrapping paper as his sister had been. The wrapping paper revealed a snow globe that was easily the size of Andrey’s hand. Instead of snow, leaves in different shades of oranges, reds and yellows lay at the bottom. In the middle was a big black wolf, caught mid-run.

Somewhat nervously, Andrey watched as Fedya took in the globe. The details on the pedestal, the details on the wolf. Slowly but surely, his lips curled up. He looked up at Andrey and gave him a quick kiss to the lips. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Andrey replied, mostly just glad that Fedya liked it. He had doubted quite a lot when he had gotten it, but it seemed so perfect that he couldn’t let it slide. Seemed that had been the right thing to do.

Now it was Fedya’s turn to reach forward. What he held out to Andrey couldn’t really be called a package. It was more a very fancy and quite big envelope. Andrey shot his boyfriend a questioning look, but wasn’t given any clarification so he simply took the envelope and opened it. The first things to fall out were a couple of pictures. They were of an oak tree, but it did very little to help Andrey’s confusion. So he took out the last thing in the envelope, which seemed a certificate of sorts. On closer inspection it was an adoption certificate. Of the tree. Andrey looked at it for a few seconds and then looked up at Fedya. “Did you just get me a literal oak tree?”

“Yep,” Fedya answered, grinning despite there being a nervous edge to it. Andrey chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and said: “Thank you.” Followed by another kiss.


	7. Banana Trifles and Christmas Dinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonya's first Christmas with the Dolokhov family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! I'm actually posting this on time, look at that. (Not that I think a lot of people are reading this, but for the few that do, it's on time.) I hope you're all having (or have) a very happy Christmas! I may make a New Year one shot too, but I can't promise anything.
> 
> Also, this is Andrey's third Christmas with the Dolokhov family, so it's two years after the last one shot.

Sonya and Andrey were loudly singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio. Songs which Fedya always pretended to tolerate at best. Which maybe was true, but he was definitely smiling lightly as he was navigating the road, so Andrey didn’t think it was merely tolerating. And if it was, Fedya was in bad luck because Andrey wasn’t going to stop anytime soon and he doubted Sonya would either.

Eventually they arrived at Marya Ivanovna Dolokhova’s house, which effectively cut off the song that had been on the radio. Fedya got out of the car and said: “Thank God that’s over.”

“I’m sure we could convince your mother to put on Christmas music,” Andrey said as he got out of the car himself, followed by Sonya with whom he had been sitting on the backseat. “And we could even convince Galina to join our choir.” He heard Sonya chuckle behind him and saw Fedya shoot him a half-hearted glare.

“You know, you were a lot more fun when you were all nervous and quiet,” Fedya muttered, though Andrey knew he didn’t mean a word of it. So he slung an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders and gave him the fakest compassionate look he could conjure up.

“Sorry, Fed,” he said, an involuntary grin breaking through the fake look. “But you know what’s really unfair? Sonya isn’t all quiet and nervous. Not even a little bit.” This was probably due to the fact that Sonya had already met both Marya and Galina several times. And it was quite hard to be nervous about visiting a woman who had made you an entirely personalised birthday cake. Still, it was a bit unfair, but just a bit.

“I almost feel sorry for you two,” Sonya remarked, not sounding even remotely sorry. “But I’m freezing my toes off, so I’d rather go inside and then I’ll consider feeling sorry for anyone.” She did have a good point concerning the temperature, though Fedya as always looked as if it was early autumn. So they quickly got their things out of the trunk and made their way to the front door, which Fedya somehow managed to open without dropping anything.

“Fedya, is that you?” Marya’s voice sounded from the kitchen, out of which the woman herself emerged moments later. “The three of you are early. Galina isn’t even home yet.” She gave them all a hug and then hoarded them to the kitchen.

The kitchen wasn’t exactly a mess, but it was clear there was someone working there. There were about three cutting boards, though why one woman needed three, Andrey didn’t know. Several small bowls were already filled with cut up pieces of vegetables and things like that. Marya went back to the cutting boards and proceeded to cut the tomato that was already half in pieces. “Andrey, I put the things you needed for dessert in the fridge. Though I’m curious to see what you’re going to do with it.”

“Something that will hopefully taste halfway decent,” Andrey answered with a light chuckle as he made his way to the fridge and got out the things that he was going to need. Then he took an apron and tied it around.

“I’m pretty sure you’re physically incapable of making food that doesn’t taste good,” Fedya remarked from where he was leaning against the kitchen table. He had an arm around Sonya’s waist as she was leaning against him and added: “I’m sure it will taste good, Drush.”

Andrey shot them both a smile before ducking to get a mixing bowl out of one of the cupboards. Once he had found the white bowl, he straightened up again. “Thanks. I’m not sure how well I’m going to perform under such pressure though.” He saw Fedya roll his eyes in amusement and Sonya silence a chuckle in the sleeve of her boyfriend’s sweatshirt. Which, on closer inspection, was Andrey’s sweatshirt. He really should have noticed that sooner. And now that he was paying attention, he suddenly noticed that Sonya was wearing one of Fedya’s hoodies. It was cute, even if Fedya would kill him for saying that out loud. Andrey smiled to himself as he started cutting the bananas.

“We’re so underappreciated,” Fedya mused as he pulled himself on the table so he was sitting on it and Sonya was standing in between her legs. He leaned forward with his arms over Sonya’s shoulders and his head next to her cheek, on which he placed a quick kiss. “Maybe we should just get upstairs, leave Drey here to his suffering and make out.”

Marya didn’t even look up from your cutting board as she said: “Don’t forget to lock the door. Wouldn’t want Galina to walk in on anything she can’t forget.” Andrey looked up just in time to see Sonya turn a bright shade of red before she turned around and hid her face in Fedya’s sweatshirt. It probably didn’t help the woman’s embarrassment, but Andrey couldn’t help but chuckle.

Despite his chuckeling, he decided to have mercy on his girlfriend and asked: “Speaking of whom, where is she?” It couldn’t be that Galina was still at school, as most if not all schools had started their break already.

“She’s at her work, though she could come back any moment,” Marya answered, shaking her head. “Ridiculous, really. To let people work this close to Christmas eve. And children at that.”

“Someone’s got to be in the supermarket for the people who want to do their last-minute shopping,” Fedya said, shrugging, his voice partially muffled by Sonya’s hair. “Besides, I don’t think Galina minds as long as no one here has to work during Christmas.” Marya made a sound as if to say that Fedya was right, but she still didn’t agree with the fact.

As if she knew she was being talked about, the front door opened and Galina’s voice sounded from the hall. “I’m home!” A few seconds later she entered the kitchen. “Hey guys!” She went over to Andrey to give him a one-armed hug and look at the bananas he was cutting up. “What are you making?” As she was prone to do, she made the ‘a’ and ‘I’ in ‘making’ unnecessarily long.

“Dessert, and don’t you dare try to eat anything before it’s on the table and you’re supposed to be eating it,” he warned, though he was also grinning. It was useless to warn the girl, he knew. He hadn’t cooked once without Galina at least eating something. It was impossible to get really annoyed with it though.

“I won’t, I won’t,” the girl chuckled. “Hey, Fedo, can I shower before you guys take control of my room?” It appeared that she wasn’t going to wait for an answer, which was very smart considering who she was asking, and she practically fled out of the room. Not that Andrey thought they were going to ‘take control’ of her room anytime soon. They simply were going to stay there for the night since she had a king-sized bed and Fedya did not. In fact, he had gotten her the king-sized bed for her birthday on the condition that the three of them could sleep in it when they were staying over together. It had made much more sense than Fedya getting himself a bigger bed as he rarely stayed at his mother’s house anymore.

“Don’t you just love it when people ask things before they do it?” Fedya asked, the dry sarcasm dripping from his voice. Despite the sarcasm, Andrey was sure his boyfriend was smiling as he said it. It was simply well hidden by Sonya, who seemed to be very content in her hiding spot. It was too sweet to say anything about it, so instead Andrey said: “With all the sarcastic answers you could have given, I think it’s pretty smart that she ran. Not to mention all the weird answers you could and probably would have given.” Fedya shot him an incredibly suggestive look, a clear smirk on his face, despite half of it still being hidden by Sonya’s head. It caused Andrey to make some sort of sound in between a chuckle and a snort. Whatever it was, it sounded quite weird and was followed by a muffled chuckle from Sonya.

The way Fedya looked down at his girlfriend made Andrey’s inside melt. He wanted to walk over to them and hug and kiss them both, but was stopped only by the fact that his dessert needed to be made. It really wasn’t going to make itself. Besides, when he looked up again, it seemed his partners were at least in part taking care of Andrey’s want to kiss them, as they were kissing each other. After a few seconds, Andrey scraped his throat and muttered: “I thought you were going to do that upstairs.”

The two broke apart, Sonya a bit red again, and Fedya looked at him in a way that made Andrey immediately regret interrupting. His boyfriend smirked and said: “I thought you liked to watch.” Andrey felt himself heating up within seconds and quickly looked down at his cutting board again.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Marya interjected, though she sounded mainly amused. “Fyodor, get your luggage upstairs and make your bed so your sister can actually sleep in it.” Seeing Fedya getting ordered around by his mother was something that was both unfamiliar and highly amusing to watch. “After that you and Sonya can set the table.”

It looked as if Fedya was about to make another remark, but he was shut up by the look Marya gave him and the fact that Sonya was already dragging him out of the kitchen. His grin said more than enough though and Andrey once again couldn’t supress a chuckle.

●◦○◦●◦○◦● 

This Christmas, dinner was somewhat simple. Which really just meant it wasn’t a three-course meal, since Marya had still put in all effort. All the things that were needed for the fondue were neatly cut up and put on Christmas shaped plates. So the table was covered in Santas, reindeers, Christmas trees, snowmen and Christmas balls. And of course there were two candles set on the table.

Galina had begged Sonya to sit next to her until the woman had given in. Marya was seated at the head of the table and Fedya and Andrey were sitting on the other side next to each other.

“Each time you drop something in the cheese, you have to do truth or dare!” Galina enthusiastically suggested, but Marya shook her head, saying: “No, that will turn into a chaos within seconds. No dares during dinner.” Galina pouted, but then seemed to give in.

“We can do just truth,” Sonya suggested, which immediately caused Galina to smile widely again. The girl nodded and enthusiastically stuck a tomato on her fork, as if she secretly hoped it would fall off. If she had, she would have been disappointed, because the tomato emerged seconds later, still on the fork.

The first to lose something in the cheese, was Andrey himself. He looked at the piece of ham as if it might somehow magically reappear on his fork if he just stared at it long enough. That didn’t happen of course, so he started to chase the piece of meat through the melted the cheese. Galina was already bouncing in her seat, so Andrey decided to take his time getting the piece of ham. Once he had it, he straightened up and said: “Alright, ask.”

Immediately, Galina stopped her bouncing. “…I don’t know a question yet.” Everyone at the table burst into chuckles. Galina tried to look annoyed, but only managed to do that for a few seconds and then started laughing herself. “Erm… What’s for dessert?”

Before Andrey got a chance to answer, Fedya started talking. “Of all the questions you could have asked, you asked to one to which you’d have gotten the answer within half an hour or so anyway?” He looked with an amused smirk and raised eyebrow at his sister, who only now seemed to realise she had waisted her question.

“I want to ask another one!” Galina said quickly, but Andrey shook his head and said: “No, you already asked this one.” The girl pouted again, but like last time she pouted, it was hardly a serious one. “We’re having banana trifle for dessert.”

“With chocolate?”

“Of course with chocolate.” As Andrey said this, both Sonya’s and Galina’s eyes grew a little. Though Galina’s grew noticeably larger. Next to him, Fedya didn’t even attempt to hide his chuckle. And Andrey was sure he felt Sonya kick their boyfriend under the table.

“No one is getting dinner before all that cheese has disappeared,” Marya warned with a smile. Suddenly it seemed as if Galina was eating a lot faster than she had before. Which, of course, resulted in more things to get lost in the cheese. The most ridiculous questions were asked and she asked equally ridiculous questions in return to everyone else who lost their food. At least these questions were easy to answer truthfully.

●◦○◦●◦○◦● 

That evening, Andrey, Sonya and Fedya were seated on the back porch. Marya and Galina had already gone to bed, as it was well past eleven. It was definitely cold out, but none of them cared. They were seated next to each other and wrapped in several blankets. Both Andrey and Sonya had pulled up the hoods of their hoodies to keep their heads warm and Fedya was wearing a beanie. And to help his head stay warm, Andrey had it buried in the crook of Fedya’s neck. Sonya was sitting in his lap, her head on his chest.

It was hard to determine which limbs were who’s under the blankets. Their legs were an entangled mess and their arms were only that much better. All Andrey knew for sure was that he had an arm wrapped around Sonya and that one of Fedya’s arms lay over his own shoulders. He believed that Fedya and Sonya’s hands were clasped together, but didn’t know for sure and definitely had no idea where his other arm was. He didn’t really need to know either. Wherever it was, he was comfortable. Perfectly content.

It was hard not to be content, in that moment. He was somehow entangled with the two people who he loved more than he had ever thought he could love anyone. Who loved him, who loved each other. They were on the porch of a woman who practically treated him as if he were her son. Inside was a girl who never once had acted as if they weren’t good enough for her brother. And neither had the mother.

Of course, things weren’t perfect. Fedya drank too much, Sonya was insecure. Andrey’s father would never accept them, nor would Sonya’s aunt. Marya had financial problems, no matter how much Fedya and Galina tried to help out. But it was still more than Andrey could have wished for, to spend the cold winter night like this.

The silence was calm, but Andrey felt the need to break it anyway. “Son? Fed?” Two hums confirmed that his partners were listening and hadn’t fallen asleep already. “I love you two.” There was a kiss against his temple and then one against his jaw, followed by two murmurs of ‘love you too’.

●◦○◦●◦○◦● 

When Andrey woke up, it took him some time to remember what he was doing inside. Even as he figured that out, he couldn’t quite remember how or when they had gotten back inside. Probably after someone had fallen asleep. Maybe he had been the one to fall asleep first. It was far from impossible. Maybe both he and Sonya had fallen asleep. Equally possible.

Whichever the case, he was inside now, laying in a warm and comfortable bed. His head was resting against Sonya’s chest. The woman herself was still asleep, half curled around Andrey. As his vision sharpened, Andrey saw that there was an arm slung over Sonya’s waist. Fedya’s arm. He sat up and saw that his boyfriend was awake already, seemingly texting someone on his phone.

“Morning,” he whispered, as to not wake Sonya, and bend over her to press a kiss to Fedya’s temple. The man smiled and tossed his phone on the bed. He wrapped the arm that had been around Sonya, around Andrey’s neck to pull him closer and press a kiss to his lips.

“Morning,” Fedya whispered, letting go of Andrey’s neck and wrapping the arm around Sonya again. “Galina is complaining that we stay in bed too long.” Andrey chuckled, but quickly silenced himself when Sonya stirred. Luckily it seemed as if he hadn’t woken her up. “She had also forgotten to bring her sweater to my room, so she came in to get it about half an hour ago. She may or may not have a picture of the two of you sleeping now.”

“You could have stopped her.”

“I could have, but do you know how much effort that is? Especially this early in the morning. Besides, she was very convincing.”

“You have the picture too, don’t you?” Andrey asked and though he didn’t get a verbal response, his boyfriend’s grin said enough. Sonya stirred again, but this time her eyes actually opened. Andrey leaned down to press a kiss against her cheek and wish her a good morning. All still in whispers of course. Luckily Sonya always woke up quickly, so she was ready for conversation and such within a minute.

By then Fedya had already left the bed to get their sweatshirts. Or well, his sweatshirt and Sonya’s and Andrey’s Christmas sweaters. He threw the pieces of clothing on top of them, apparently completely disregarding that Andrey had been quite comfortable in nestling himself back in Sonya’s arms. But it was a lot less comfortable with a sweater laying on top of him, so he groaned, let go of his girlfriend and sat up to pull it over his t-shirt.

Sonya, too, sat up and examined the sweater she had been tossed. It was a green one with a waving penguin on it. She chuckled and shook her head. “You two really weren’t kidding when you said Marya would get me a sweatshirt.”

“Of course we weren’t,” Andrey said, trying his best to sound like he was deeply offended by the implication that they’d lie to her about that. Of course he knew it was doomed to fail, as he wasn’t great at sounding fake offended. Especially not this early in the morning.

“My mum’s kind of predictable like that,” Fedya added. “Well, that and she asked me your size. So you know, she was either going to get you an ugly sweater or was weirdly interested in very specific details about you.” When put like that, it sounded weird to the point of creepy, but Andrey could definitely imagine Marya asking things like that simply because she was interested. It was usually nice though and not necessarily weird.

“That’s so sweet of her,” Sonya proclaimed as she pulled on the sweatshirt.

“Now let’s get downstairs before Galina is going to drag us downstairs,” Fedya suggested, halfway out of the room already.

“And so that you can get your coffee, right?” Andrey asked with a light grin. Sonya chuckled shortly but Fedya merely shot him a light smirk and said: “You underestimate me.” Andrey was about to react to that, as Fedya’s highest priority in the morning had always been coffee, but stopped when he noticed his boyfriend pointing at something. He glanced past Sonya at the nightstand and saw an empty mug standing there.

“Seriously?” Sonya asked, though she was also giggling. Admittedly, she tried to hide it behind her hand, but it was unsuccessful and destroyed the way she tried to say ‘seriously’ either way.

“Yes, now come on.” Fedya hardly waited for them and had already left the room. Andrey shot his girlfriend a telling look, which caused them both to chuckle. After that they got up and made their way downstairs too, where Galina was indeed waiting impatiently. Seemed like age wouldn’t really change that.


	8. Spilled Flower and Ruined Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrey comes home to an attempt at a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrey is too sweet, Sonya is too short and Fedya can't bake. But we love them all.

Andrey wasn’t sure what he had expected when he came home from work. However, this definitely wasn’t it. Admittedly, most of the house was like one would expect it to be. It was the kitchen that brought on the surprise, as it was nothing short of a chaos. In the middle of the chaos, was Sonya, covered in what Andrey hoped was flour.  Fedya was seated cross-legged on the counter, nursing a ridiculously large cup of coffee and looking far too amused for someone who had been too drunk to sleep before 6 in the morning.

“What did you give her?” Andrey asked, not bothering with announcing himself as he was sure Fedya had noticed him walking in. Though Sonya clearly hadn’t, as she whirled around to face him with eyes that doubled in size.

“You’re home early!” she exclaimed, sounding as if she were accusing him. At the exact same time, Fedya put up one of his hands in defence and said: “Nothing.”

“I’m… sorry?” Andrey answered in response to the accusation, confusion in his voice. “I thought I’d come home early to see how you two are doing.” He glanced around the kitchen, at the coloured bowls that were tipped over at the ground, the mixer which was dripping with _something_. It was purple. “What on earth is going on here?”

“Sonya attempted to make cupcakes,” Fedya answered with a grin before he took a sip of his coffee. Or well. He tried to, but Sonya hit him on the arm, causing some coffee to slosh over the edge of the mug. Immediately, a string of curses left the man’s mouth, even though the stain on his -Andrey’s- sweatshirt wasn’t big at all. Sonya didn’t seem to care about any of that though.

“Traitor,” Sonya huffed, crossing her flour-covered arms. “Now you’ve ruined the surprise.” Surprise? What? Had Andrey missed an anniversary or something like that?

“Son, I’m afraid the mess here may have given it away,” Fedya said in an incredibly dry voice.

“Wait a second,” Andrey interrupted any kind of retort Sonya might have wanted to make. And she definitely looked like she had been planning on making one. “Why surprise cupcakes? I didn’t miss something, did I?”

“Well, no, but we thought since you’ve been working so much lately…” Sonya shrugged and brushed some flour off of her arm. It was probably a good thing Andrey wasn’t holding anything, otherwise he surely would have dropped it. She wasn’t wrong. He had made more hours lately than he would usually, but it had turned out to be necessary.

“And you got minimal amounts of sleep last night because for whatever reason you decided to stay up with me,” Fedya added, which was equally true. Though that too had been necessary, according to Andrey anyway. After all, he couldn’t let his boyfriend get drunk without supervision and without a way to get back home.

“We figured you deserved cupcakes. Cupcakes Fedya hasn’t meddled with.” As if to support their girlfriend, Fedya raised up his cup in a silent toast. Despite the fact that it all had been necessary and the late hours were unavoidable, Andrey felt tears pricking in the corners of his eyes.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, the words already halfway stuck in his throat.

“But we wanted to.”

Well. That did it. Andrey walked over to his partners, teary eyed and throat closed. He pulled Sonya in a hug, her head tucked under his chin. Within a second, her arms were wrapped around him in response. He reached out with his hand to place it on Fedya’s knee. It was immediately covered with Fedya’s cool hand. They simply stood there for a little while, none of them saying a word.

After what could have been minutes, Andrey took a step back and looked down at his shirt, which was now also covered in flour. Which reminded him… he looked around again. “Wait. Son, you are fully capable of baking cupcakes. How did the kitchen get in such a mess?”

Almost immediately, the woman’s face turned red. She muttered something completely incomprehensible, looking down at her hands. Luckily, Fedya translated for her: “She tried to grab the flour.”

“So?” Andrey looked from his boyfriend, who was far too amused to give any further explanation, to his girlfriend, who thankfully looked up at him to answer: “Well… you put it on the top shelve.” She pointed at one of the open cupboards, where he had indeed placed the flour on the top shelve. In his defence, he hadn’t expected either of his partners to need it… ever.

“I got on the counter to get it, but then I slipped and dropped the flour and that’s how everything else ended up on the ground,” Sonya continued explaining, still a dark shade of red. “And apparently the bag was open, which caused all this.” She gestured at herself and the flour on the floor.

“You didn’t fall, did you?” Andrey asked, taking her at an arm’s length to search for any kind of injuries. Luckily she shook her head. In hindsight, Andrey realised that the scene would have been very different had Sonya fallen. If nothing else, Fedya wouldn’t be looking as if everything was still incredibly amusing. He took a breath and nodded. “Alright, how about you go and take a shower and Fedya and I clean up the kitchen?”

“I’m objecting,” Fedya said almost immediately, which was not surprising in the least.

“You slept until three. Which, may I remind you, is less than an hour ago,” Sonya said, effectively shutting Fedya up. “You have no right to object to anything.” He looked down at his coffee, with the look he had when he knew someone was right but was too stubborn to admit it. Sonya looked satisfied with that and, after pressing a quick kiss to Andrey’s cheek, walked out of the kitchen.

Andrey turned to his boyfriend, who still hadn’t moved from his place on the counter, and pressed a kiss to his head. “I’m glad you got at least a decent amount of sleep, even if the time was less decent.”

“Uhu.” Fedya threw back the coffee seemingly in one swallow, which was impressive considering the amount that had still been in the mug. After that he jumped off of the counter with all the agility of someone who hadn’t only just woken up with an undoubtable hangover. “Now get out of here and watch tv or something. Sonya will kill me if I let you actually help with cleaning up.” Andrey was about to protest. After all, he could easily help with cleaning up the kitchen. Before he had opened his mouth though, Fedya shot him a half-hearted glare so Andrey held up his hands in defence and left the kitchen to curl up on the couch with a book.


	9. Shattered Glass and Overdue Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is a bit of an idiot, except for Sonya. She's her amazing self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, this has alcoholism in it. It also has mentions of homophobia (it's really just mentions, no one is actually being homophobic in the chapter) and throwing up (I tried to keep the description as vague as possible).
> 
> This is after Fedya and Sonya have started dating, but before Andrey and Sonya started dating.
> 
> Also, Andrey plays DJ at a club on Fridays and Saturdays.

To say Andrey was hesitant to get up to his boyfriend was a bit of an understatement. To be fair, he was hesitant about nearly anything regarding Fedya lately. Andrey had convinced himself it was simply because he wanted to sort out his thoughts. He was aware it wasn’t entirely true, but it was better than admitting that other people had gotten to his head. Other people in this case being Andrey’s family. His father finding out about his relationship with Fedya in and on itself had definitely not been great. His finding out that Fedya was also dating Sonya really hadn’t helped. To top it all off, there was the look Mary had given Andrey afterwards. As if she agreed with their father at least in part. He knew she was fine with his relationship with Fedya, but the same probably couldn’t be said about Fedya’s relationship with Sonya. And maybe they had a point. They probably did. Rationally Andrey knew, or hoped, they were wrong. It didn’t quite help with the feeling in the back of his head though.

However, none of that had anything to do with Andrey’s current hesitation.

They were both at the club Andrey worked at and were currently the only ones there. Everyone else had left already and the people who hadn’t want to leave, had been ushered out by the bouncers. That had been fifteen minutes ago. Andrey could have been done with gathering his things ten minutes ago. Instead he had done everything deliberately slowly. All the while he had felt Fedya’s eyes burning in his back, which really didn’t help with his reluctance.

Also not helping was the quiet snarl that sat on Fedya’s lips and had been for a while. The man had seated himself on the bar, leaning forward with his elbows on his legs. An empty vodka bottle was dangling in between two fingers, threatening to fall and shatter any second. Andrey didn’t know if Fedya had emptied the bottle on his own. It didn’t really matter either. Andrey had kept enough of an eye on him to know Fedya had to be incredibly drunk. Not that he looked like it. He looked like a man looking for a fight, which wasn’t any better.

Andrey took a deep breath, slung his laptop bag over his shoulder and then finally made his way over to Fedya. “Hey, we’ve got to get going. Sonya could be here any minute to pick us up.” For a second it looked like Fedya wasn’t going to be difficult. But then Andrey mentioned Sonya and, contrary to what he had expected, Fedya looked instantly more annoyed.

“Why?” Fedya asked, his tone as sharp as the look in his eyes.

“Why what?” Andrey could hear the confusion in his voice as if it was echoing around the room.

“Why’s she picking us up?” Fedya sneered with the practiced steadiness of someone who didn’t want to let on how drunk they really were. It seemed fairly pointless considering the circumstances.

“Because she borrowed my car since yours is still at Anatole’s,” Andrey answered slowly, as Fedya should know this. Or at least should be able to come up with it on his own. But then again, Andrey had no idea what was going on in Fedya’s alcohol-dazed brain, so who knew what he would be able to remember and what not.

Fedya snorted. “Right.” It sounded as if he didn’t quite believe Andrey. “I’m not coming with you.” As if to put power behind the statement, he sat up and leaned back on his free hand so that he was now taller than Andrey.

For a second, Andrey was seriously considering just leaving without his boyfriend as he really wasn’t in a mood to have anything even remotely like an argument. Of course he realised he couldn’t do that. So he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on, Fed. It’s way too late to be difficult for the sake of it.”

“Well, then I suggest you stop doing it.”

“I was talking about you.” Andrey was starting to have a hard time not getting annoyed himself. “We both know this is going to end in you and me going home. I am not in a mood to convince you first.”

“That is a lot of false confidence in one sentence,” Fedya drawled, his words stringing together a bit more. Probably more than he wanted to, as he seemed even more annoyed than a few seconds prior. “You are aware that in order to be convincing, your words actually have to mean something, right?”

_What?  
_

“Considering that you’ve never said anything that meant something, you’re not incredibly convincing,” Fedya continued, his tone more taunting now. It caused Andrey’s blood to run cold in his veins. “It would probably help if you followed through on something every once in a while.”

“Now you’re just spitting bullshit.” Andrey sounded much more convinced than he was and judging by Fedya’s raised eyebrow, the man was very aware of the fact. Which definitely wasn’t a good thing. None of this was good. Andrey just wanted it to end even if he had no idea how he was supposed to make that happen.

“Oh, sure, you’ll follow through with shit when it’s easy to do that.” Fedya slid off of the bar and got a little closer to Andrey. Despite being taller, Andrey felt like he was pushed more into the ground with every step Fedya took and had to stop himself from taking a step back. “But it’s when people don’t agree with you that you give in and show people how _weak_ you are.” The word was spit out, the saliva landing on Andrey’s cheek burned as if it was fire.

“Suit yourself then,” Andrey said, though his voice sounded foreign and distant to his own ears. “I’m leaving.” He hadn’t even turned around before Fedya started to laugh. A laugh that, though clearly a drunk man’s, was cruel to the core. A cruelty which Andrey had never seen before and hadn’t really thought existed.

“See? It’s pathetic really. You’re such a fucking _pushover_.” Andrey felt as if he had been hit in the face and involuntarily took a step back.

“Fyodor Ivanovich Dolokhov!” Sonya’s voice sounded from the door. Andrey only just stopped himself from sighing in relief. Sadly he was greatly helped by Fedya’s features twisting into something more angry than its former annoyance. Sonya seemed entirely unfazed though, as she walked closer to them with a determined look on her face and a stern edge to her voice as she said: “Get in the car.”

For a second Andrey was afraid that Fedya would turn on Sonya too. For a second it looked like the shorter man would. But then the vodka bottle slid from his grasp, shattering as it met with the ground, scattering away as if even the pieces of glass didn’t want to be there. Without saying another word, Fedya walked past them out of the club.

“Are you alright?” Sonya asked, her tone much more gentle now, though Andrey had troubles processing even that. It was as if what had just happened, was still stretching out in front of him. He forced it away though and looked at his friend.

“Yes.” He nodded. “We ought to go, they’ll want to get this place clean.” Sonya gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher, but didn’t say anything and simply followed him as he started making his way out.

The air outside was unsurprisingly cold, but Andrey found it to be welcoming. It was a lot better than the air in the car, which had inevitably already mixed with the alcohol coming from Fedya’s breath. Fedya had, thankfully, placed himself on the backseat, which made it a lot easier to ignore him.

The car ride was a quiet one, just the sound of the radio preventing things from getting too awkward. It was easy to let the time just slip away. Which was probably why it took Andrey a while to notice that they weren’t driving to their apartment. He did know the streets though. It seemed like they were on their way to Fedya’s shop.

A few minutes later he was proven right. Sonya parked the car right in front of the coffee shop and turned around in her seat to look at the man. “This is your stop.”

“What?” Fedya asked, sounding about as confused as Andrey was. Though Fedya sounded a lot more annoyed.

“You heard me,” Sonya said, sounding extremely unamused. She took something out of her pocket and held it out to Fedya. Apparently, they were the keys to the shop. “You have all you need there to spend the night and I’ve just decided that you’re not welcome at the apartment.” Once again, it looked like Fedya was going to get angry, but instead he took the keys and got out of the car without saying a word.

“That was a bit unnecessary,” Andrey said quietly.

“No, it wasn’t,” Sonya said firmly, though not unkindly. Honestly, Andrey had never seen her get as close to unkind as tonight. Though was it really unkind if it was deserved? Probably not, but it wasn’t a question Andrey wanted to rack his mind over.

Once they had gotten to their apartment, all Andrey wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed. Hopefully to wake up and find this all was a dream. Or nightmare, rather. However, it seemed that Sonya had different plans as she said: “Let’s watch _Bohemian Rapsody_. I’ve heard it’s amazing.” Andrey tried to protest, but before he even got the chance, Sonya disappeared into the kitchen. With a quiet sigh, he followed her.

In the kitchen, Sonya had taken a pan out of the cupboard and was now rummaging through a drawer. “Do you want marshmallows?”

“What?” Andrey asked, unable not to be confused at the question which didn’t seem to fit at all in the situation.

“In your hot chocolate,” Sonya clarified as she straightened up. In her hands she held several jars, filled with the things she needed to make hot chocolate. Admittedly, Andrey still wasn’t in the mood for any of this. But he couldn’t deny that Sonya’s hot chocolate was to die for. Besides, it was becoming clear that he wasn’t getting to bed anytime soon so he might just as well get the best out of it.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered, leaning against the countertop as he watched her start on making the chocolate.

“Why don’t you go and put the movie on? I’ll be right there.”

Andrey nodded and left the kitchen. He went to the living room and, with the necessary difficulties of navigating anything past midnight, put on the movie. By the time he was done, Sonya came walking in with two steaming cups. She pressed one in his hands and then sat down next to him.

The movie may not have been one that Andrey would have picked himself, but it was definitely good. More importantly, it did a great job at distracting him. That combined with Sonya’s presence and the hot drink in between his hands turned out to be enough to eventually relax him a little.

●◦○◦●◦○◦● 

To say Fedya was disoriented when he woke up was a bit of an understatement. After all, it wasn’t often that he woke up in his shop with a massive hangover. In fact, that hadn’t happened in a over a year. He rolled over in his sleeping bag, which instantly made his head spin. Without looking, he reached out to grab his phone to text Andrey.

_Andrey._

All at once, foggy memories from the evening before came flooding in. There were definitely gaps missing, but it was enough. With his hand still halfway to his phone, he doubled over and emptied his stomach over the floor and the sleeping bag. He sincerely doubted it was because of the hangover.

Still shaky, Fedya got out of the sleeping bag, slipped into his shoes and made his way to the front of the shop to get himself water or a coffee. Preferably a coffee. However, he didn’t get that far as he had to go through the storage room to get there.

The sight of the bottles of alcohol in the storage room made Fedya stop for a few seconds. Then, suddenly, he was engulfed by a white-hot rage. He didn’t remember when was the last time he had felt such anger. Anger at the drinks. Anger at himself and his stupid habits. Before he knew it, he was taking the bottles off the shelves and smashing them against the ground, throwing them against the walls. The sound of shattering glass wasn’t nearly enough to drown out the sound of his own voice in his head. His screaming didn’t do the job either.

Eventually, all bottles had been smashed and Fedya’s throat was raw. He was leaning against the shelves, panting slightly. It was clear that none of this had helped with his hangover. Or had helped with anything else for that matter. Well, he felt a little less dazed and disoriented.

Not caring about either coffee or water anymore, Fedya left the shop to go back to his apartment. As it was still early, it was much too cold outside not to be wearing a coat, but Fedya hardly registered that. Even though he had to walk the way, considering the fact he didn’t have a car. Besides, the walk gave him plenty of time to think and remember. Or try to remember anyway. Half of it was still a blur, but it was enough. Too much. He threw up twice before he ended up at the apartment, though whether it was because of emotions or because of the hangover, he didn’t know.

It was only when Fedya was already at the front door that he realised he probably should have called or texted to see if it was okay if he came. Well, it was too late for that now. He opened the door and stepped into the apartment, which for the first time felt like a place he really shouldn’t be.

Inside, it was extremely quiet. The only sound was the pounding of Fedya’s own head. Maybe Andrey and Sonya were still asleep. Maybe they weren’t even there at all. Fedya didn’t know where else they would have gone, but they surely would be able to think of something.

But, as Fedya stepped into the living room, it was clear that they hadn’t gone anywhere. At least, that Andrey hadn’t, as the man was sitting on the couch, staring ahead of him. Or he had been, as his eyes snapped up almost instantly when Fedya set foot into the room. Andrey looked… alright. If Fedya ignored the tight set of his jaw and the cold look in his eyes anyway. It was hard to ignore those though. Especially knowing that they were his fault.

Maybe he should have called. Fedya deeply wished he had, but there was no going back now. So he scraped his throat and asked: “Can we talk?”

“Do you even know what there is to talk about?” Andrey asked. It was hard to determine if it was a genuine question or an insult. Fedya guessed it was the first though, as he was a bit surprised himself that he remembered as much as he did.

“Yes,” he answered, wanting to sit down, which would feel a lot less exposed than standing as he was now. But Andrey hadn’t answered his question yet, so Fedya figured it would be best not to sit down yet. “At least, I think so. Some of it is a haze, but I don’t have any real gaps in my memory.”

Andrey sighed and nodded, gesturing to the other end of the couch. “Alright, talk.”

As Fedya sat down, he suddenly realised he had no idea what he wanted to say. Apologizing had never been his strong suit and he had never screwed up this badly before. And certainly never had had such high stakes before. Well, he figured he should start at the beginning. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I acted like an asshole and said those things. I know you were just trying to look out for me. I was drunk and angry. Which I know isn’t an excuse. I was fucking horrible, there is no excuse for that.” He was staring at the coffee table, aware of Andrey’s eyes on him but unable to meet them. It was unfair and wrong, but he couldn’t bear to see that coldness. “Just know I didn’t mean anything I said, even as I said it. I was just attacking your insecurities. It doesn’t make it better. Probably just makes it worse. But I don’t want you to think it may be true. It’s not. It’s so far from the truth.” He took a shaky breath, trying to figure out what to say next, because it wasn’t enough. He doubted anything could be enough. That wouldn’t stop him from trying to get as close as possible though.

But he was spared from saying anything else, as Andrey said: “You’re right, that doesn’t make it better.” His tone was extremely level, almost as if he hardly cared. “Why would you even want to do such a thing? What have I ever done to you?”

It was a fair question. However, Fedya hadn’t come to accuse Andrey and the answer to that question was an accusation. At least, the complete answer was, so Fedya simply answered: “I was angry.”

“You’ve been angry before, that doesn’t answer the question.”

“Did you intend to break up with me?” The question had left Fedya’s mouth before he could second guess himself. At least it wasn’t exactly an accusation. That was something.

“What?” There was confusion in Andrey’s voice now, something that broke through the evenness. Fedya dared to look up at him, glad to see the same confusion breaking through Andrey’s expression.

“You’ve been distant lately,” Fedya explained. “You seem to want to spend as little waking time alone with me as possible. Pretty sure I can count on one hand the times we’ve been together without Sonya or Natasha or God knows who else there to chaperone.” He saw realisation creeping up in Andrey’s eyes, which wasn’t a good sign. “When I asked if you were alright you said you were and when I asked if I had done something wrong you said I hadn’t. Couldn’t really think of another reason why you’d act like that.”

“Why didn’t you ask before?”

Fedya looked down at his hands and shrugged. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answer too. Guess I didn’t expect it was so straining to wait for the shoe to drop.” Speaking of which, he couldn’t help but notice that Andrey hadn’t answered yet, which didn’t bode well. “Andrey, I know you don’t owe me shit right now, but please answer cause I’m going to throw up.” It wasn’t a lie or even an exaggeration. Fedya could taste bile in his mouth. This time he was sure it wasn’t just because of the hangover.

“I wasn’t going to break up with you,” Andrey answered slowly. It was the better of the two, though considering the situation neither was great. Better or not, Fedya felt himself get to his feet and rush to the kitchen. For the fourth time that morning, he emptied his stomach, though this time above the sink. There wasn’t anything left in his stomach though, causing it to burn all the way through. It felt ironically appropriate.

Apparently Andrey had followed him as the man was currently standing in the doorway. After a quick glance, Fedya looked back at where his hand was clenching the edge of the sink. It was the only part of his body that wasn’t shaking. Even his voice wasn’t steady as he asked: “Then what was going on?” For a second he feared there had been nothing and he had imagined everything. It would really be the cherry on top of this mess. But Andrey sighed. A sigh which indicated that at least there had been something going on.

“My dad found out about us,” Andrey answered. “And about you and Sonya.”

“Oh shit.” Fedya’s first instinct was to ask if Andrey was alright, but the answer was clear and it had probably very little to do with Old Bolkonsky. So he settled for the only other thing he could think of asking. “What did he say?”

“A lot,” Andrey said, which was possibly the vaguest response ever. “But… erm… among other things, he suggested in much less kind words that you were just taking advantage of me, because no man would really want to be with a man, which is why you have Sonya.”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

“Not really.” Andrey shrugged and suddenly seemed hyper fixated on the edge of his sleeve. “But sometimes I can’t help but wonder if maybe he’s right and I just don’t see it because I don’t want it to be true. Mary seems to think he’s right.” A quick surge of anger went through Fedya, this time directed at the Bolkonskys. Anger hadn’t really accomplished anything so far though. Not anything good at least. So Fedya forced it away and instead walked over to his boyfriend.

“They’re wrong,” he said, “both of them. I couldn’t do that to you. I don’t know how I can convince you of that, especially considering everything that has happened, but I love you. And I love Sonya, but that doesn’t change my love for you. I don’t think anyone could ever change that.” There were about a million things he wanted to do in that moment, among which kissing Andrey until he believed him, but he didn’t feel like he had a right to do any of those things, so he stayed where he was.

It was Andrey who reached out to him and pulled him close. Despite their height differences, he still managed to bury his head in Fedya’s neck. Without thinking, Fedya wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. Apologies kept spilling out of his mouth. For not being there for Andrey. For allowing him to doubt. For saying those things the evening prior. For getting drunk. For not talking sooner.

They really should have talked sooner.

Fedya had no idea how long they had been standing there when Sonya appeared in the doorway. He looked at her over Andrey’s head, who seemed not to notice. She didn’t say anything, but shot him a small smile more meaningful than anything she could have said. After that she turned around and left them to their embrace, to stay in the kitchen for long enough that no one would be able to recall how long it had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that if things like this happen frequently, it's unhealthy.
> 
> Let me know what you thought of the chapter and if there's anything you'd like to read with any of these idiots! (Or maybe you'd like other characters featured with them! I still have an unfinished chapter laying around featuring the amazing Natasha.)


	10. Golden Sunbeams and Lilac Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding we didn't know we needed but needed anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, at the end Laya is mentioned. This is the Sonyafedrey kiddo that I had wanted to write about first but I didn't and I hadn't updated in a while, so you'll have to wait for that. But essentially, she's biologically Son's and Drey's kid, she's maybe a year at this point and her full name is Aglaya.

 

It was way too early when Sonya’s alarm went off. Not that she would usually consider 8 am to be early, but they hadn’t exactly gone to bed on time the night before. Besides, she was comfortably nestled in Fedya’s arms and judging by the amount of legs she could feel, her legs were somehow entangled with Andrey’s too. Neither were a great motivation to leave the bed. In fact, she had half a mind to just turn off her alarm and not get up at all. 

“Tasha’s going to kill you,” Fedya’s sleep-drunk voice sounded above her. Sonya looked up to find he hadn’t even bothered to open his eyes. Which, honestly, wasn’t all that surprising. She groaned and buried her head back in his chest. Not because he was wrong. Actually, it was because he was right. Appointing Natasha maid of honour had seemed like a good and sensible choice at the time. Of course, Sonya would be lying if she said she regretted it, but every now and then Natasha tended to go a bit overboard. It wasn’t a surprise that the actual day of the wedding was no exception.

The wedding wasn’t until four in the afternoon, yet Natasha had demanded that Sonya had to be at her place at nine. Asking why getting ready would take seven hours had proven useless. And Fedya was right. If Sonya dared to show up late, Natasha would be inside their apartment to slaughter them all.

So, with the necessary reluctance, Sonya untangled herself from her fiancés and left the warmth of the bed. Since it didn’t really matter what she’d wear, she decided to just slip into yoga pants and a sweatshirt. There would be plenty of time for fancy clothes later.

Before leaving the room, she turned around to see that Fedya had turned around to nestle himself against Andrey, who was still fast asleep. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Her heart jumped and suddenly she was very aware of the fact that this was her wedding day. She was getting married. She was actually, really going to get married. It still didn’t quite sound real. Which wasn’t surprising, as she had believed her entire life that she would never get married.

Still smiling to herself, she turned around and left the room to get herself a quick and light breakfast. It wasn’t like she’d be able to eat a lot anyway. The nerves had really appeared now and seemed to have no intention of leaving anytime soon. It was to be expected, but that didn’t make it any less inconvenient or annoying.

After breakfast, Sonya got into her car and drove to the apartment where Anatole and Natasha lived. She hadn’t even properly parked yet or her cousin came running out of the building. Just like Sonya, Natasha had seemingly decided that clothing didn’t matter yet and gone for yoga pants and a knit sweater.

“Hey-” Sonya’s attempt at greeting was interrupted by Natasha throwing her arms around her. The hug lasted a good couple of seconds before Natasha finally allowed Sonya to take a breath. Immediately, she began to ramble excitedly. It was so fast that Sonya could only make out a couple of words, including ‘wedding’ and ‘dress’.

“Hold on,” she stopped her cousin’s rambling. “I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying. Besides, I want to know what I got out of bed early for.”

“I can’t tell you that yet,” Natasha exclaimed, taking Sonya by the arm and walking towards the apartment building. “That would ruin the surprise.” Sonya had expected an answer like that, but had still hoped her cousin would remember that she wasn’t a huge fan of surprises. And that was on normal days. This was a day where she already had enough things to rile up her nerves. She really didn’t need surprises to help with that. Knowing Natasha, there would be no getting out of it though.

“You can at least tell me what we’re going to do now,” Sonya tried.

“We’re going to go upstairs and wait for Mary. She’s late,” Natasha added the last part as if it were a crime. Silently, Sonya felt sorry for Mary, who probably didn’t have experience with Natasha’s strict enthusiasm.

When they entered the apartment, they were immediately embraced by warmth and the rose scent that came from the scented candles Natasha had spread throughout the room. It took some getting used to, but Sonya liked it now. Anatole was sprawled out on one of the couches, looking as if he was in disagreement about the time too. He had his hands folded behind his head, opened one eye when they walked inside and said: “There’s the bride to be.” He smiled in a way which used to tick Sonya off as it was a bit flirtatious. Since then she had learned that that was simply his normal smile. She tried to offer him a smile of her own, but was instead too busy fighting the redness creeping up her cheeks.

Natasha squealed and clapped her hands together. “And such a beautiful bride at that.” She picked up the tea pot and divided boiling water over two mugs. Apparently she had even planned precisely enough to know when to put on the tea. “And we’re going to make sure you’ll look your best.”

“How?” Sonya asked, hoping to get more out of this first and only clue. Sadly, Natasha only put her fingers to her lips and pressed one of the mugs in Sonya’s hands. Out of the mug came the sweet scent of strawberries, which happened to be Sonya’s favourite tea flavour. In hopes of finding an answer to her question, she turned a pleading eye to Anatole.

“You don’t think she told me anything, do you?” he asked, which was a fair point. “I’m not even getting any tea!” He grinned and sat up on the couch, but with his legs over the armrest so he could look at the two women. “But if you need saving, you’re always free to call. Or scream if necessary.” With her mug of tea in one hand, Natasha grabbed a pillow off of the nearby chair and started slapping Anatole with it. Anatole was making all kinds of protests and apologies, but Natasha was having none of it. Meanwhile Sonya couldn’t help but be worried about hot tea spilling over someone.

Luckily, disaster was avoided as the doorbell rang. Anatole took his chance to escape from Natasha’s wrath and disappeared down the hall. A few seconds later he walked back in, followed by an uncomfortable looking Mary. The woman had barely entered the room or Natasha had pressed a mug in her hands too. It didn’t seem to help an awful lot with the uncomfortableness. So, Sonya decided to try and put Mary at ease a bit by saying: “I’m so glad you’re here! We needed another sane person here.” It seemed to work at least a little, as Mary shot her a small smile.

“Very funny,” Natasha said, though there was no real annoyance to be found in her voice. She didn’t even say anything about Mary being late. “Now finish the tea you two, we have places to be.” At the mention of ‘places to be’, Sonya shot Mary a pleading glance, but the woman merely shrugged, indicating that she didn’t know what that meant either. Which wasn’t surprising.

After everyone had finished their tea, they said their goodbyes to Anatole and then left the apartment. Sonya and Mary both decided to seek the safety of the backseat of Natasha’s car. Within minutes they were gone, though Sonya still didn’t know where to.

●◦○◦●◦○◦●

By the time Andrey had woken up, Sonya had already left and Fedya had long since left the bed to walk their dog, Oxana. They had had breakfast together and after that… Andrey had no idea. He had tried to read a book, but failed. After that he had tried to watch tv, which had turned out to be equally unsuccessful. Ever since he had done things such as cleaning the house even though it was already clean, straightening things that were already straightened and practically walking a hole in the ground.

“Are you done yet?” Fedya asked from behind Andrey, causing him to jump a little. He turned around to look at his boyfriend. Fiancé. Soon to be husband. It was still a bit of a weird concept to wrap his head around, especially now that the wedding was getting closer. So, he decided to park that aside right now and focus on the present. And in the present, Fedya’s hair was wet, meaning he had just showered.

“Why did you shower already?” Andrey asked, avoiding the question to which he did not have an answer. For one to know if they were done, they had to know what they were doing first. And Andrey had no clue.

“Because I took Oxana for a run, remember?” Fedya sounded far too amused for Andrey’s liking. It definitely didn’t do anything to calm his nerves, so he decided to try and focus on something else. Preferably something that didn’t have to do with a completely useless action.

“Right…” Andrey looked around himself, trying to find something to talk about that didn’t have anything to do with marriage. “Wait. You went running with her about two hours ago. Why are you only just now taking a shower?”

Fedya gave a one shouldered shrug and only answered: “Laziness, I guess. The bed being more comfortable than standing. Oxana’s insistence that she can fit on a lap. A general disregard for good habits, -” At least he was self-aware. “-pick your favourite.” Andrey’s favourite definitely was the mental image of the full-grown German Shepard trying to fit herself on Fedya’s lap, but he sincerely doubted that had been the main reason considering the fact she was also extremely obedient and getting her off a lap should be no effort whatsoever. Still, he _was_ allowed to pick.

“How inconsiderate of her,” he remarked, skilfully ignoring the amused tilt of Fedya’s lips. “Haven’t you told her it’s incredibly impolite to keep someone?”

“I would have, but I wasn’t in a hurry.”

“Shouldn’t we be?” Andrey asked quietly after a few seconds of silence. He felt his nerves racing back full force from their five minutes of absence. He vaguely noticed his right hand reaching out to the side table to fix the position of the cactus there, which had only been fixed three times in the last two hours.

“Why? Are you planning to straighten your tie twenty times too?”

Andrey opened his mouth to answer and closed it again, not sure what to say in reply. Luckily, Fedya’s smile and eyes softened. Andrey felt himself involuntarily relax in response.

“I’m serious,” Fedya said and the teasing tone had entirely left his voice. “We have a little under five hours left. That should definitely be enough to get dressed multiple times, get stuck in traffic and even apply nail polish with a pretty design on it.” There was a bit of teasing back in the tilt of his lips, but this time it caused Andrey to chuckle.

“But Sonya left over two hours ago,” Andrey said, very much aware it wasn’t a good reason to increase nerves, but his nerves didn’t care about that.

“No, Natasha abducted her over two hours ago,” Fedya corrected, “which makes a big difference, considering that Natasha has never mastered the art of rational thinking. That and she’s overdramatic, but don’t tell her I said so.”

Andrey chuckled again and nodded. “You’re right.” He meant it, but that didn’t stop the subconscious need to go and do something. Even if that something was cleaning up the kitchen for the second time.

“How about we put on a movie that doesn’t last over two hours, order pizza for lunch, send Sonya a picture to annoy her and get ready after that?” Fedya suggested.

“Only if you pick the movie and if we don’t send a picture of the pizza. I think we should be feeling sorry for Sonya instead.”

“Don’t worry, I can do both.” Andrey could almost see the sarcastic halo above his fiancé’s head as said fiancé practically threw himself on the couch and went down a searching rabbit hole on Netflix.

●◦○◦●◦○◦●

  _F: [picture attachment: a large Hawaiian pizza with Moana on the tv in the background]_

_A: You know I’m in this group too, right?_

_F: Don’t worry, I’m well aware._

_S: That better not be a large pizza._

_F: Son, what does it look like to you?_

_A: It was his idea._

_A: I’m innocent in all this._

_F: He says as he’s devouring a slice._

_S: Drey, you better hit him over the head._

_A: Way ahead of you._

_S: If you guys don’t leave a slice for me, I will murder you._

_F: Romantic._

_S: It’s pizza._

_S: Pizzas take priority over wedding nights and you know it._

_F: …_

_F: Yeah, can’t argue with that._

_A: You are both so very romantic._

_F: ;)_

_F: On another note, Andrey is borrowing your nail polish._

_A: I’m not!_

_F: Fine, he’s considering it._

_A: …_

_A: Maybe._

_A: Why am I marrying you again?_

_F: For the money._

_A: Oh, right, thanks for the reminder._

_S: And thanks for **asking** if my nail polish can be borrowed._

_F: You’re both very welcome._

_A: So Son, how is surviving Natasha going?_

_F: I’m surprised she’s allowing you to text. Isn’t that bad luck or some shit like that?_

_S: Probably, but right now she isn’t close by._

_S: She kidnapped me and Mary to a spa and we may have conspired her massage to last half an hour longer than ours._

_F: Evil._

_S: We needed a break okay!_

_S: I love her, but I’m sure she saved up energy for over a year just so she could use it right now._

_A: We feel sorry for you._

_F: Because spas and massages sound absolutely dreadful._

_A: You hate those kinds of things._

_S: And you have pizza._

_F: True._

_F: And Natasha does actually sound dreadful so…_

_F: You know, people may just start to wonder why I have a bump on my head if you keep this up._

_A: 0:)_

_S: Don’t worry, we’ll tell them why._

_S: Also, please convince your ex to stay home until the actual wedding._

_F: Which one and why?_

_S: Hélène. I’m pretty sure she’s going to do my hair._

_A: Why are you opposed to that?_

_S: I just am._

_F: Solid reasoning. But she’s actually a good choice for that._

_A: Why?_

_F: Have you seen her hair? I swear, we’re lucky Kolya isn’t a girl otherwise a brush would be part of the weekly groceries._

_S: That has to be an exaggeration._

_A: What she said._

_F: When’s the last time either of you tried to get a finger through that hair?_

_F: Lena’s, not Kolya’s._

_A: …_

_S: Fine, you win._

_S: Natasha should be nearly done, so time to look like I only just got back._

_A: Good luck._

_F: Don’t get killed._

●◦○◦●◦○◦●

Initially it had appeared that Fedya was the only one completely unaffected by wedding nerves. It made sense, considering those nerves were entirely irrational. However, he was sad to admit that didn’t seem to stop them, even if they were last minute.

It was about half an hour before the ceremony would start and he was waiting in a backroom of the church. The church hadn’t been his idea of course, nor had arriving this early been. Both had been strongly influenced by his mother. The only consolation was that at least he wasn’t waiting alone. Andrey was there too, showing off his nerves by pacing through the small room. At least Fedya could pride himself on hiding his nerves better. Even so, he couldn’t deny that the lilac suit he was wearing suddenly felt just a bit too tight nor that he had the slightest longing for a cigarette, if only so he would have something to distract himself with. Not a desirable distraction of course, which is why he opted to study the man in front of him instead.

Andrey had, in fact, painted his nails. They now shimmered a subtle gold, matching his gold cufflinks and Fedya’s gold eyeliner. Contrary to Fedya, Andrey wore a black suit, but with a lilac tie. They both had lilac roses with gold painted leaves pinned to their jackets, even if Fedya’s was draped over the back of a chair. Andrey would shoot a disapproving look a it every now and then. But then again, he also shot disapproving looks at the lamp, the painting on the otherwise bare wall and really anything else someone could be disapproving of.

After a while, presumably half an hour but Fedya wouldn’t know, Marya entered the room. She looked at them both before clasping her hands and saying: “You both look so very handsome.” She moved as if to give Andrey, who was closest to her, a hug, but stopped and shook her head. “Can’t risk ruining the suits.”

“I doubt they’ll survive the day,” Fedya remarked dryly, skilfully ignoring the disapproving looks he got from both his mother and fiancé. Neither were that disapproving anyway.

“I’m sure, but let’s at least keep them as neat as possible until after the pictures,” Marya said, a smile he knew to be similar to his own playing around her lips. “Now, put on your jacket. Andrey, dear, straighten your tie. Let’s not keep anyone waiting any longer.”

Fedya took a deep breath as he nodded to himself and got up from the chair he had been sitting on. He grabbed his jacket and put it on. From the corner of his eye he saw how Andrey failed several times at straightening his tie, after which Marya did it for him. They shot each other a short look, which settled Fedya’s stomach ever so slightly. Then they left the room and took their places on the dais.

The orchestra started playing and under the sound of violins, the doors at the front of the church opened. The low afternoon sun flooded in, filling the room with a golden orange light. It made the figures that entered hard to distinguish at first, but Fedya would have recognised Sonya’s silhouette anywhere.

In front of Sonya walked Galina and Kolya, though the first was more skipping than she was walking. They both had a basket in one hand and were grabbing white and lilac flower petals out of it to throw up into the air. On Sonya’s arm was a proudly beaming Ilya Rostov. He did his best to outshine to sun behind him, but nothing radiated as much as Sonya herself did. But then again, Fedya had always thought she had a close resemblance to the sun.

Sonya’s white dress was slightly trailing behind her. The chiffon was cut and layered in a way that it resembled feathers, without having the actual shape of them. The bodice was covered with gold lace, which spiralled in intricate and elegant shapes. It dipped down the back of the dress. On the gold lace were clear and lilac crystals, which were sewn on there by Marya herself. Down the back of the dress were lilac rose petals, matching the crown of roses that sat atop Sonya’s hair. She looked quite literally like the angel Fedya knew her to be.

Once she had reached them, Ilya kissed her cheek before letting go of her to take his seat on the front row next to Natasha. Sonya send them both a somewhat shaky, but nevertheless radiant smile before they all turned to face the man who was to be leading the ceremony. He wasn’t a priest, nor anyone Fedya knew, but Mary had proposed someone from her church group. Someone who she deemed worthy enough to conduct a marriage and who was willing to do one that consisted of three people, unofficial as it was. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here this afternoon to join together these men and this woman in holy matrimony. If anyone should have an objection, let him speak now or remain silent forever.” Fedya would have personally fought anyone even considering to object. Luckily, for the sake of the mood, no one did. “Then might I now invite the ringbearer.”

The three of them turned around to see Natasha walking towards them. She had Laya perched on her hip. The box of rings was mostly held by Natasha, but Laya had one of her little hands clasped onto it too, as if she realised the importance of her role and was insistent on taking it seriously. Once the two had reached them, Laya let go of the box to reach out to Sonya instead. So far for sense of duty. Only after that she seemed to be aware that her other parents were there too. She made a decent attempt at reaching out to all three of them at once. Her high-pitched giggles filled the church. Sonya reached forward to give the little girl a kiss on her head, after which Andrey followed her example. Of course Fedya couldn’t do nothing now, not that he wanted to anyway, and he too reached over to press a kiss to the thin hairs. Laya, now satisfied by the attention she had received, clamped herself to Natasha again. Natasha smiled at them before handing the box to the ceremony leader.

“Andrey Nikolayevich Bolkonsky, do you take Fyodor Ivanovich Dolokhov as your husband and Sofia Alexandrovna Rostova as your wife?” the man asked.

Andrey’s eyes glimmered with light tears as he looked at them. They reflected the lights around them, making his eyes bright while darkening the brown at the same time. He smiled as he said: “I do.”

“Fyodor Ivanovich Dolokhov, do you take Andrey Nikolayevich Bolkonsky as your husband and Sofia Alexandrovna Rostova as your wife?”

Someone might just as well have asked if he wanted to continue breathing. Though if Fedya were honest breathing didn’t seem all that important right now. Not when looking at Andrey and seeing his steady and strong love. Not when looking at Sonya and seeing her sweet and caressing love. It seemed for a moment that breathing really was unnecessary as long as he had them. “Fuck yes.”

“And do you, Sofia Alexandrovna Rostova take Andrey Nikolayevich Bolkonsky and Fyodor Ivanovich Dolokhov as your husbands?”

When Sonya smiled, Fedya could see the lingering disbelieve in her smile even if it was severely outnumbered by pure and unmasked joy. “I do.” The ceremony leader opened the box with the rings in them. They all were shaped like two interwoven golden bands, encircling two small gems. Sonya took out Andrey’s first, which had a sapphire and an amethyst, and slid it around his finger. Then Andrey took out Fedya’s, which had an amethyst and an emerald, and put it around his finger. Finally, Fedya took out Sonya’s, which had an emerald and a sapphire, to slid it around her finger.

“I now pronounce your husbands and wife. You may kiss the… each other.” A soft chuckle went through the church before they did exactly that.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for settings, things that happen, ect. let me know!


End file.
